


ink, fire and fiddle

by aquarius_galuxy



Series: sword to my shield [5]
Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M, porn companies hate this trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:31:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 63,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5103011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquarius_galuxy/pseuds/aquarius_galuxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Yama, Kurogane loses control. In Yama, Fai chooses to be brave. In Yama, they're on fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers:** arcs up to and including Celes  
>  **Blanket warnings for the whole fic:** rated between M  & E for sex, and a trigger warning for failed attempts at dub-con. Other than that, it generally is a T rating.
> 
> This Yama fic can be read on its own, though you might want to read the previous arcs for a better understanding of events/character motivations.
> 
> Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters do not belong to me.

The morning began like it had done for the past five days: full of low grunts and coarse-sounding language, the stomping of feet into boots and pieces of armor being strapped on. It was otherwise dim in the tent, and lonely for how much noise there was surrounding him. He didn't understand any of it. So, he chose to lay still until their attention passed over him.

What seemed like an age later, Fai pulled his thin pillow off his head and rolled out of his cot, scrubbing at his eyes. It was still early, gloomier than usual, and already, most of the soldiers had left for breakfast.

A low grumble came from his right. He turned, waved brightly at Kurogane, who was seated cross-legged in his own wood-and-canvas cot, dressed for the day and polishing Souhi with single-minded efficiency. "Good morning, Kuro-sir," he whispered. It felt good to say something.

Kurogane frowned. He leaned forward, pursed his lips, and pointed at them.  _Shut up._

They had figured early on that it was best for Fai to remain silent in this world. Without Mokona in range, and with neither hide nor hair of the children in sight, they were stuck here, struggling to communicate while they waited for some sign of those familiar faces.

(Both he and Kurogane were worried about the kids, even if the ninja refused to admit to it.)

It was a sheer blessing that Kurogane could even speak to the people of Yama Country at all, even if he stumbled over the words sometimes. Unlike Fai, Kurogane had little trouble fitting in. He had dark skin, dark hair, spoke like they did and ate with chopsticks.

Fai smiled to reassure the other that he understood, then began to dress, fumbling a little with his armor.

The different pieces and materials were a pain to assemble. They were thick, heavy, and Fai couldn't do without them, not when the people here (soldiers and fruit sellers alike) looked at him like he didn't quite belong. The armor was a sign that he was one of their own, that he could defend himself, even if his pale skin and blond hair set him apart from the rest of the population. It hid him, too. He wasn't all that fond of showing skin.

All the same, it was stifling to have to keep silent all day. Fai was used to joking with Mokona and the children (and even Kurogane), and before that, he'd always had a companion to converse with, be it Chii, Ashura, or any of the guards in the Celesian palace.

It struck him suddenly, days late, that he wasn't entirely without another means of communication. (Brush and paper were so rare to come by on the camp, after all.)

He turned back to Kurogane, eyes fever-bright, and grabbed the slim dagger stashed in his boot. Fai settled himself into the narrow stretch of compact dirt between his bunk and Kurogane's, began scratching quick lines into the ground. Kurogane squawked in protest—no one in their right mind would destroy a weapon like that.

But the end product was something even the ninja couldn't scoff at: a rough sketch of Big Kitty and Big Doggy from their days in Outo. Except the tones weren't filled in—it was much easier to draw just the outlines and facial expressions of their cartoon representations.

Kurogane narrowed his eyes when Fai looked back at him, triumphant. He brushed Big Kitty's paw into obscurity, then sketched it holding a slice of cake on a plate.

The ninja snorted and rolled his eyes, but there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

His reaction was comforting in a way Fai couldn't explain. Perhaps it was because Kurogane had only worn a frown the entire week they'd been here. Perhaps it was because he'd discovered a whole new way to annoy the man.

He sat back and proceeded to sketch Little Kitty, Little Puppy and Mokona, then raised his eyebrows. Kurogane shook his head. Fai took that to mean there wasn't any news of them and sighed, scuffing the drawings into the dirt when he stood.

* * *

There was something taut in the air today, more apparent after they'd stepped out of the meal tent—a slight, electric buzz, the faintest whiff of ozone that hadn't been around before breakfast. Fai frowned, tapped Kurogane lightly on the arm. The warrior's expression was severe; he had felt it too.

Far out on the horizon, beyond the forests and rice fields that surrounded the military camp, a distant blanket of cloud hovered just beyond the hills that separated Yama Country from the wilderness. It seemed benign enough, fluffy-white and tall, and there was hardly any wind at all. It didn't feel natural; at the same time, the tension was not one of magical energy.

Fai raised his hands, brought his wriggling fingers down in an imitation of raindrops.  _Rain?_

The look Kurogane sent him was one of annoyed resignation. He shrugged.  _Don't know. Don't care._

They were learning to read each other. How they were picking up on these things so quickly, Fai didn't want to know. He chalked it up to something that occurred out of necessity and left it at that.

They made their way over to the practice grounds, where scores of other soldiers were already sparring with each other, drawing up clouds of dust with their feet as they countered arcing strikes with gleaming steel swords.

Fai picked a spear from a crate of practice weapons, while Kurogane passed over Souhi in favor of a broadsword. Their fight began almost immediately; Fai launched a strike, Kurogane parried, forcing him backwards with nimble footwork in an attempt to weave through his defense. In this manner, they meandered through the metallic clanging, keeping an eye out for the fights going on around them while they exchanged blows, neither yielding to the other.

These drills always came after breakfast. Fai kept close to Kurogane, largely because that was what the ninja wanted, rather than him being incapable of facing off with the other soldiers. He could speak with expressions—a challenging look, surprise, friendliness. It had been a relief to be able to shed the ankle splint without consequence (two weeks of recuperation in Shara Country had helped very much) and resume his previous mobility.

He had not been able to hide his proficiency with weapons from Kurogane, however. To be accepted into Yasha's army, Fai first had to prove his worth among the soldiers. He had taken whatever weapon they'd thrown at him and fought with it—bow, spear, sword, dagger. There had been no leeway for false pretenses, and Ashura had trained him well.

Kurogane had been quietly impressed. It was harder to read the warrior when his eyes weren't red, though that intent look had spawned little flutters in Fai's belly that he was sure had no right to be there.

(He had noticed the attention from some of the other soldiers too, but shelved the information for later consideration.)

So, Fai could hold his own where fighting was concerned. Kurogane knew that. Yet, Kurogane scowled whenever Fai left his field of sight, to the point of being almost possessive when he elbowed his way back into Fai's immediate vicinity.

It was cute, he would allow that. And Fai didn't attempt to slip away from Kurogane without good reason, either.

* * *

The day passed in relative peace. By nightfall, the buzz in the air had grown stronger. Thick clouds hovered low above the land, purple like bruises and carrying with them a chill that made the arthritic swear. The storm clouds had not gone unnoticed; the soldiers' movements were a lot more hurried than usual.

Fai sharpened and checked the weapons with Kurogane while others moved around them, readying emergency medical kits, water, and other supplies for their nightly battle. Preparations had been made to guard against a possible flood—supplies and furniture were lashed to sturdy trees, and tents were collapsed and secured. When the swords and spears were all accounted for, he turned to the warrior, bumped his arm and nodded towards the sky. Even the Moon Castle wasn't visible past the clouds.

Kurogane lifted a shoulder, said something in his language. Fai looked blankly at him. The other sighed, picked a sword up, gestured between them.  _We fight_.

Fai frowned, pointed at the sky.  _Even with that?_

A nod. Kurogane lifted the sword by a notch to cement his point.

Lightning lit the clouds up from within, turning them into momentary wispy lanterns. The air was damp, and if it weren't for the cool of night, Fai was certain that he would have been sweating in this humidity. He nudged Kurogane again, pulled his slim dagger out so he could sketch in the ground once more: various circles to represent a sea of people, clouds, rain, and sweeping lines of water that washed over the army.

Kurogane pressed his lips into a thin line, lifted the sword once more. He crouched down beside Fai, however, took the dagger, and attempted to draw a few tents (the city) with sandbags stacked up in a wall around them.

Fai looked uncertainly back to the clouds, shrugged. It was one thing to be prepared for a flood, and another to be teleported from the battlefield right into flooded territory.

Kurogane pointed first to the soldiers around them, then the sketch, and shook his head. He jabbed a finger at the surrounding forest.  _Army thinks there won't be a flood. The forest is enough to stop the water._

Even with their preparations, Fai wasn't convinced. Kurogane cuffed him lightly on the chin with a resigned huff. He kicked dirt onto the drawings, then pointed to Fai's hand, and mimicked drawing in the air.

Horrified, he stared at the ninja, shook his head. He wasn't using his magic, not here. He wasn't going to risk Ashura waking up. (The Ashura of this world did not possess that familiar magic, much to Fai's relief.) And as much as Yasha felt like the magic from Sakura's feather, all warm and wholesome, there were no other instances of magic in this country, save for their nightly journey to the castle in the sky. For using magic, he could be persecuted (just like he was so many years ago)—

Fai shook his thoughts away. They were going to fight at the Moon Castle. Maybe they would stumble upon the children and Mokona once they were there. With any luck, they'd be out of this world before the storm hit.

The easy way out was hardly ever an option, of course.

* * *

It was fascinating, the way Kurogane fought. Fai had noticed that the warrior had not yet dealt any immediately-fatal blows. All through the times they spent in other worlds, Kurogane's  _modus operandi_  had been to incapacitate even the worst of threats. He had to know about the seal in his forehead, then, the one which would lower his strength when he killed, and the very same which protected him from fatal attacks. Fai wondered if Kurogane had always worn that seal.

To remain a worthy soldier in Yasha's army required visible results on the battlefield. Kurogane did this by injuring his opponents to such an extent that they did not perish immediately—they died of blood loss within a half hour, when there was no time for their enemies to save the wounded. Coupled with blows to the head, his opponents were rendered unconscious, and he easily took down thrice as many men as the next soldier did.

As much as he could, Fai stayed by Kurogane's side.

He had only meant to do so because he preferred using the bow in combat (it wasn't as terrible as feeling the give of flesh and crunch of bone beneath his hands), and enemies who got too close could be swept up by Kurogane, who saw fit to cut them down before they posed a real threat. Fai wasn't complaining about that. Kurogane saving him meant leaving openings in his own defense, however, and Fai had stepped in once, then twice to mend those holes.

Before long, Kurogane was leaving inexplicable gaps where it came to protecting himself. It bewildered Fai, who had covered them hastily—there wasn't any way Kurogane was sustaining an injury because of him. Five days and plenty hours of battle later, they had learned each other's movements and rhythms, and it felt right fighting back-to-back. Fai took distant opponents down; Kurogane handled the ones who got too close, and between them, their footwork had changed to accommodate the other in an intricate, flowing dance.

It wasn't until the end of the battle that day that Fai remembered the storm threat back in Yama. Worried, he turned to Kurogane, who had crouched over a fallen soldier to ensure that he seemed sufficiently dead.

"Kuro-ris," he whispered, barely moving his mouth.

Kurogane snapped his head up nonetheless, angling a glare at him.

Fai wriggled his fingers to remind him of the storm. They couldn't see the land below from here—he had no wish to be further separated in a raging flood. Kurogane sighed and stood, offering his elbow to Fai.

He took it gratefully; they made their way back to the cluster of surviving soldiers, watched as Yasha circled them on his dragon-lizard steed. Moments later, the ground beneath them glowed blinding white, and there was the still-too-new, nauseous sensation of being deconstructed and flung through a great distance.

They landed smoothly on solid ground, dry, Fai's fingers tight around Kurogane's elbow. He looked up in surprise.

The rain clouds were still looming above them, still glowing with sporadic lightning, and the camp was as empty as they'd left it some hours ago. Ozone was thick in the air, accompanied by the distinct scent of rain. Somewhere further away, the storm had already begun.

Yasha conducted his nightly debriefing. Fai waited for the soldiers to begin dispersing, before looking to Kurogane. The other was wearing a frown; he looked to the tents, then the forest, said nothing.

Figuring that the answer would come quickly enough, he followed Kurogane to the edge of the forest, where half of the largest tents were being set up. Soldiers were untying some of the cots lashed to the trees; they moved forward to help carry furniture into the tents. To prevent potential losses in a flood, the tents were staked deep into the ground and secured to the trees, and the legs of the narrow wooden cots were roped together so that the cots would not go floating off.

They were halfway done with the sleeping preparations when the first fat droplets of rain began to fall. Fai almost joked about sharing a bed in the rain, but he stopped himself—Kurogane couldn't understand his language, and he was supposed to be mute, besides.

By the time the tents were ready and the cots secured, rain was sluicing down in sheets. They were completely soaked through. Visibility of the campsite was reduced to zero—the only lamps that burned were those inside the tents. And the tents were full of drenched, tired soldiers. Rain pattered on the thick oilskin-covered canvas above them.

Someone brought a fiddle out as others stripped off the layers of their armor. Fai set himself gingerly on a corner bunk, wincing when rainwater oozed from his outerwear into the single layer of canvas stretched across his cot. There were enough beds in here that he didn't have to share—all the same, he wasn't looking forward to spending the night on a wet surface.

He was observing Kurogane in the midst of polishing Souhi (the adjacent bunk was almost too close) when the music began. It wasn't exactly a fiddle, per se, with its little round body and long neck, both lacquered black, but it was played the same way, with a bow dragging clear, bright notes from three taut strings while nimble fingers varied the pitch of the music. So, Fai thought of it as a fiddle, and his eyelids fluttered shut in pleasure when the melody gathered momentum, high notes one moment and low notes the next, a jaunty campfire tune that had some of the soldiers singing along.

The fiddle itself sounded like a waterfowl warbling, with its nasally, haunting timbre, and even though it wasn't quite like playing the piano, he could identify the notes, could feel his fingers twitching in time to the music. Fai thought about his piano back on Celes, and the sleek white beauty he'd played on two worlds ago, felt a deep longing in his chest. He thought about whistling, though doing that didn't quite give him the same exhilaration as playing an instrument did. He wanted to coax beauty to life in his hands.

When he opened his eyes, Kurogane was watching him. He offered the other a tired smile.

The ninja didn't look away, so he tried a different tactic: attempting—and failing—to whistle. Puffs of air fizzled out from his puckered lips; he attempted a dozen different ways of creating an aperture with his mouth (none of which worked, of course), and after some attempts, Kurogane's forehead furrowed. He muttered some short, sharp words, gave a low whistle that was all but drowned by the music, and Fai grinned at him.

 _So Kuro-puppy knows how to whistle,_  he wanted to say. Instead, he glanced away, at the gathered soldiers turned towards the fiddler.

The sight transfixed him, when he really looked at the men of Yama. In this wet, they had stripped down in order to not catch cold. Orange-gold lamplight danced on their bodies. All manner of inked skin was illuminated, where they had previously been hidden under clothes—bold, bulky words scrolling down backs, portraits of women in flowing robes on muscled biceps, a demon mask on the back of a shaved head, skulls, flowers, messy, chaotic lines, neat scriptures...

(He had glimpsed them briefly in the common bathing tent, too, but they had visited only once when it was crowded. Fai had attracted the attention of a number of men—Kurogane had glowered at them—and after that, they'd gone before or after the majority of their comrades.)

Looking at the tattoos now, dark ink fluid with the soldiers' movements, Fai was starkly reminded of the one he had worn on his back—Ashura's spell—that Yuuko had taken away.

How she could tell it was his most precious thing, Fai could only guess. Without its comforting blanket of magic, he'd felt bereft for weeks (still felt it now), and his back felt far too exposed. He wished for it back, even though he knew it was impossible for his king to grant him a new one, or even for Yuuko to return it. It was a price paid.

( _It's a phoenix,_  Ashura had said,  _just like you are. You've been through the blazing fires of Hell, Fai, and you have risen—will always rise—like one._ )

Right now, they were in a world so far away that he couldn't even sense the pulse of Ashura's magic. (But whether he could sense it didn't matter, because Ashura could track him down no matter what.)

Fai remembered looking at his tattoo through a mirror, feeling the weight of magic on his skin. He remembered touching his fingers to bold black lines, feeling love and kindness wrapped around his back. They were nothing he deserved, yet he craved both anyway, wanting to fulfill and deny his sovereign's wish. He couldn't forget that Ashura was still waiting for him back on Celes.

In Yama, people had tattoos. In Yama, perhaps Fai could replace the one he lost.

Throat tight, he reached for his shoulder to touch the ghost of his king's blessing. What met his fingertips instead was leather and steel plate.

Fai gasped and blinked, looked around. He hadn't expected to forget himself here. Tens of soldiers were clustered around, lit with orange in the large, wide tent. Rain pattered, the fiddle warbled, soldiers were singing, and Kurogane was still looking at him.

He blinked uncertainly, wondered if the warrior read anything from his face, then decided to try a bright smile just in case. Kurogane frowned, glanced away.

Thoughts of Ashura had left a hollow ache in his chest. There was no fear, not when he hadn't used magic here and there was a far lower chance of his benefactor tracking him down. He missed Celes in its happier days, and the soggy, heavy clothes clinging to him were reminiscent of the rare times he'd gone out into the snow in an unenchanted cloak, returning only when he had been covered in melting slush trickling wetly down his skin. There was once, too, when he'd played in the snow on a high balcony of the Valerian castle with—

He couldn't breathe right, not here. He needed to be away from music and tattoos and things that reminded him of the lives he'd lost (left behind). Needed to be out of this heavy, dragging armor.

Fai slipped along the shadows of the tent, pushed aside the entrance flap and stepped out into the stinging pelt of rain. At once, the music muffled. Cool raindrops beat into his hair, splattered against his face, and it was comfortingly dark out. He hadn't moved two steps in the sucking mud when a wedge of raindrops before him reflected orange light, and the fiddle sounded bright and clear once more. A brief shadow, then the tent flap fell back into place.

He didn't have to look to know that Kurogane had followed him out.

Fai turned his head in the other's direction, barely, to acknowledge his presence, then trudged forward. Mud squelched around his boots; he wondered when their integrity would fail in this rain.

They walked in silence for a long time. It was pitch-dark out with the occasional bolt of lightning—he'd needed a few moments for his eyes to adjust—but this wasn't very different from the depths of the tower at all. Rain slicked wet paths down his scalp, dripped off his eyelashes and trickled down his neck, seeping into clothes that were becoming increasingly heavy.

"Oi," Kurogane said, when they'd crossed the muddy campgrounds to the forest on the other side. He continued with a short string of words that ended on a lifting note—a question.

"Kuro-tim's asking me things I can't answer," he said lightly, weaving his way between trees with trunks so wide that he could hug them and not have his fingers touch.

The ninja did not hiss at him to shut up (he knew the sound of those words, at least), and he felt the weight in his chest lift by a fraction.

"You don't mind that I'm talking?" Fai asked, smiled a little. It helped to talk, if just so he could stop thinking. "Do you miss my voice, Kuro-mon?"

More muttered words, threaded with annoyance.

The storm was not as severe in the forest. The canopy bore most of its brunt, and what came through was a light rain, one that gave him a chance to wipe off the droplets clinging to his face. Soggy leaves squished beneath their boots—his toes were disgustingly slippery by now—and even the animals were quiet.

"I was thinking of getting a tattoo, you know. So many soldiers in Yama have them, and... Well, I don't know if you remember what Yuuko-ril took from me. I thought about replacing it." A laugh. "Not exactly the same thing, of course, but life's like that, isn't it?"

Kurogane had perked up at the familiar names, even if there was no comprehension on his face. Nonetheless, it was nice to talk, liberating to be able to talk as much as he wanted, out here where there was only the two of them. Kurogane, with his superior senses, would be able to stop him if he thought there was anyone approaching.

"I wonder how Sakura-mis and Syaoran-sha are doing. Mokona too. We probably should have looked for them when we were in Shara Country. Then we wouldn't be in this mess, would we?" He rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms out behind him. "I think Syaoran-sha will do his best to protect them all. Sakura-mis too, if she can. She's very warm. I didn't expect her to be."

Kurogane grunted.

"I think you like them, Kuro-mer. Even if you pretend to huff and grouch and say you don't care. You can't hide, you know. Not like me." But those eyes saw through him, didn't they. Fai laughed again, with a little less amusement. "You should probably stay away from me, Kuro-lief. But I don't think my master's watching us now. I can't feel it here. It's strange, isn't it? I can't feel Ashura-tii's magic, either."

The other looked sharply at him—he'd recognized the names, again, but could not understand any of it. He'd have flown into a rage otherwise.

"So, we can do as we like. No, we shouldn't. Maybe the children will show up and... no. We shouldn't." Fai steered the monologue to a different topic (one that was most definitely not what he was thinking about), to whatever crossed his mind, and by the time he tired himself out with talking, they'd reached the other side of the forest, and he didn't know how much time had passed in between. It was still raining. He wanted to wash himself. Despite the light rain beneath the canopy and the chill in the air, all that walking uphill had made him sweat beneath his thick armor.

"Do you... Do you think we can bathe out here?"

Past the forest was a rolling expanse of rice fields, the city, and a wide, meandering river in the distance. Lightning lit the scenery with a harsh purple-blue glow every so often, bright light cutting through the rain. Fai had decided early on that, if they were walking, they would be best off moving towards higher ground. They would have the freshest information on whether the river had burst its banks, and how quickly the water was moving. Not all of the forest was immune to flooding, after all.

Kurogane was observing him from the corner of his eye. Fai angled a small smile at him (nothing to hide, not right now), and waved toward the pouring rain just beyond the trees. "Want a shower, Kuro-elf?"

When the other still didn't comprehend, Fai shrugged, peeled his armor off painstakingly, hung them on a low branch. He didn't think they would dry, but the thought of cleansing water on his skin was enough to spur him onward. Kurogane looked away.

He wasn't embarrassed at this point. They'd bathed together in the common bath, and although he didn't much enjoy baring skin in front of the other soldiers, Kurogane was an exception. Kurogane was... different. They'd fought together. (Slept together.) He figured standing out in the rain naked for a little while wouldn't hurt, even if his back was more unprotected than it should be.

The water was sweet and cool against his skin when he took his first steps out, wet grass tickling his bare feet. Fai tipped his face to the sky, felt an army of droplets patter down on his nose and mouth and eyelids. He ran his fingers through his bedraggled hair, grimy from the day's work, flicked a sudden grin at Kurogane. "It feels good, Kuro-pai, you should try it!"

Kurogane stared suspiciously at him. He was leaning against a tree, arms folded across his chest, seemingly uninterested in the storm. Fai shrugged. He scrubbed himself down with an undershirt he'd brought into the rain with him, wishing he'd thought to rummage about the camp supplies for a chunk of soap.

"I wish you'd brought some soap along, Kuro-lord," he told the ninja over his shoulder. When the other remained staring blankly at him, Fai mimicked lathering his hands and shampooing his hair.

Kurogane snorted. But he did push off from the tree, coming to stand in front of Fai with a low uttered command. He turned toward the forest, looked back, as if waiting on a response.

"You'll have to do better than that. I don't understand you."

They stared at each other in the dimness for longer, until lightning struck somewhere over the rice fields behind him, and he saw the dark intensity in Kurogane's eyes. His breath caught, and rain continued to beat down, rivulets sliding down his chest and arms. The ninja was drenched, hair plastered flat against his head.

"You won't be able to see where you're going," Fai said. He meant it as a joke when he reached up to brush that lock of hair away from Kurogane's eyes. His fingers had scarcely made contact with hot skin when Kurogane caught his wrist, abruptly pulled him back under the shelter of trees.

The words Kurogane said would have sounded like  _You're going to fall sick in the rain,_  if he'd been talking to either of the children and not Fai. Fai followed, speechless, his focus anchored on the heat branded into his skin. Kurogane felt good, and, well. Fai was naked. A lot of things could happen.

He wasn't exactly surprised when Kurogane backed him up against a tree, his face all but shadowed, one large palm coming up to cup the side of his head. His heart was pounding; Kurogane was a barrier from the cold, and close, so close he could feel the other's breath on his face. All he could see was the purple lightning-lit sky past Kurogane's shoulders, and the broad chest of the man himself, offering protection and heat. He gulped. His fingers twitched, itching to pull Kurogane closer, pull his clothes off.

There were a million things he wanted right then, some with them flat on the grass, some with him pressed into the wrinkled bark of giant trees.

What he wasn't expecting was the hover of Kurogane's lips a sword's edge away from his, a large, hot palm slipping down his wet belly, cupping him between the legs. His whimper snagged in his throat, tore free when calloused fingers slid against him, and he rolled his hips forward, wanting. Their lips met somehow—he didn't know who broached the final distance—and his hands were fumbling against the clasps and layers of Kurogane's armor, seeking.

Kurogane stroked him firmly; he writhed, rough bark biting into his back, and their kiss was anything but chaste, open mouths sliding, tongues pressing hot and slick. Calloused fingers dragged and pulled, coaxing him to distraction, and he scrabbled at the other's clothes, finally giving up and grabbing Kurogane through the layers of his breeches (so  _hard_ ), squeezing and rubbing.

Somehow, their fumbling hands freed Kurogane of a few clothes, just enough for him to circle hungry fingers around the other. Somehow, Kurogane had got a hand behind him, easing slow fingers into the cleft of his ass, and Fai gasped, his pulse throbbing in two separate places. He tiptoed, loosened his grip, brought his hips flush against the other's. Kurogane took them both into his hand, slippery and hard and flushed, and Fai shuddered, gave a strangled moan. It felt good, fucking good, and he couldn't think, could only surge against Kurogane, grinding, needing more.

A finger pressed lightly at his entrance, slowly rubbing—fuck fuck  _fuck_ —and Fai hardly felt himself going rigid as pleasure swept through him and all he knew was the pulsing heat in his groin. Kurogane groaned a few thrusts later; more wet heat splattered between them.

For a while, there was only heavy breathing, heartbeats galloping, raindrops pattering, and the deafening roar of thunder.

Kurogane had released him, leaned a forearm flat against the tree trunk next to his head. His chest was heaving, and Fai was avoiding his gaze like he usually did. He'd discovered that the ninja much preferred it when he didn't attempt to pull a fake smile, so he eased himself away through the gap the other had left between himself and the tree. It had been a while. There had been no privacy like this through the entire week they'd been in Yama.

He stepped back into the storm, which hadn't abated, and ran his hands over his body again to clean himself of sweat and other fluids. It took some minutes; by the time he turned back to Kurogane, cool and composed and relatively clean, the warrior had tidied himself. Fai dressed in silence, looked once again over the landscape when a distant bolt of lightning lit the sky.

The river had swollen in the time they were occupied. There wasn't anything either of them had to say about it, so Fai folded his arms, watched the slow spread of water across neat rectangular demarcations of fertile fields. It seemed slow from a distance, though it wasn't really. The deluge continued, and as they watched, the edge of the floodwaters crept towards them, blurring everything it touched like a splash of water on careful strokes of calligraphy.

"Do you think the flood will reach us?" Fai asked, glanced at Kurogane. When the warrior cocked his head, Fai pointed at the river, then where they'd come from in the forest.

Kurogane looked thoughtful for a moment. He studied the sky, then the rising waters, and wriggled his fingers, lifting and lowering them thrice.  _Rain for a long time._  A jerk of his thumb back into the forest, a nod of his head.  _Yes, it will flood._

Fai sighed. "I guess we should head back, then."

They weaved their way back through the forest. It was only easier because the path took them downhill; the dead leaves on the forest floor were soggy. Fai slipped more than once. On the second time he flailed wildly (the leaves on Celes had been needles instead of wide, flat, slippery sheets), Kurogane snorted and grabbed his arm, hauling him upright.

He stayed pressed close to the ninja the rest of the way back. Fai didn't look forward to acquiring bruises or sprained ankles, and Kurogane was warm, besides.

There was little to say on the return trip. Fai kept his thoughts to himself, listened to the crackle of thunder directly overhead. It was only when one particularly close streak of lightning zig-zagged its way to the trees ahead, half-blinding them, that he felt his misgivings well high in his gut once more.

Without consulting Kurogane, he began to run.

Low branches scratched at his face and he slipped and tripped several more times. Kurogane wove through the undergrowth behind him, far more silent. Using his momentum to propel himself forward, Fai broke through the edge of the forest, feet squelching to a stop in sucking mud.

The burnt embers of a skeleton tree glowed red across the watery campgrounds. Licking orange flame sought refuge where branch met trunk, and as he watched, the fire sputtered and died out with an inaudible hiss. Steam misted the air above. From several yards away, over a shallow sea of rainwater on waterlogged ground, all he could smell was the loam of the wet forest floor. Yet, as he traced the damage down the tree, the acrid sting of wood, rope and canvas bore heavy on his tongue.

A tent had been secured to the tree; a third of its roof was seared away, and rain was pouring into the gap that remained. He hoped no one was caught in the fire, brief though it might have been.

Fai glanced at Kurogane. The other looked grim. He inhaled deeply, strode forward to assess the damage. With any luck...

As they approached, orange lamplight flickered from the other side of the tents, illuminating clustered soldiers. Shouts rose above the  _plink-plink_ ing of rain, and Kurogane grabbed him lightly by the elbow, slowing Fai down so he could step forward.

The looks that were cast their way were not in the least bit friendly when they rejoined their comrades, rain dripping down their faces. Fai stood silent, watched on as several soldiers spoke at once, eyes full of accusation, and were ordered into silence by one of the superiors standing around—the Touya of this world.

Touya frowned at him, said a long string of words to Kurogane, full of decisive consonants, and he glanced back frequently between Fai and the burnt tree, and the tent. Fai felt his heart sink. Kurogane glared back, gestured between them and the forest they'd come from, and his words in return were sharp.

He was being blamed for the fire. The same looks were back, the cold, distrustful gazes that he'd attracted the first moment they'd stepped into the sprawling tent-city of Yama. Kurogane had refused to let the guards take him away then, and Fai had learned that they'd only allowed him to remain because of his eyes, mysteriously black ever since they landed in this world. (If it weren't for the robes from Shara that had followed them into this world, Fai would have thought he'd met Yama's version of Kurogane.)

Touya turned to speak directly to him. Fai tensed, smiled pleasantly, shook his head. Kurogane glowered. It seemed as though he were trying to speak through his eyes (but those eyes were angry so much that he couldn't rightly discern the warrior's meaning).

With a short command, Touya called a couple of soldiers up, who came to stand on either side of Fai. He gulped, tried to force back the memories from Valeria, court nobles who had looked at him (and Fai) and whispered. There had been a small hand in his once, that fitted his perfectly. In the midst of the Yama soldiers, Fai wore a smile, and pressed the backs of his fingers into his palms.

_(Unlucky, unlucky, unlucky.)_

They took his arms roughly (did Kurogane think he was a bad omen?) and Fai followed numbly when they turned him away, to the trees. Touya issued an order. Fai didn't understand it, so he didn't bother looking at his superior, instead lowering his gaze to the ground. Was he to be punished?

"Fai."

It was the first time Kurogane had voluntarily spoken his name. He snuffled, surprise halting his thoughts, and glanced back at the ninja.

Black eyes glinted in the weak lamplight. They were determined, not repulsed. Fai was inexplicably relieved. Kurogane said something else, reached forward to bump knuckles against his chin, and the familiarity of it took the edges off his frayed nerves.

As he was led away, Fai thought Kurogane's words might have meant  _I'll get you out of there_. He almost wished he could tell for certain.


	2. Quarantine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning** for failed mild attempts at dub-con.

  
It was still raining. Kurogane picked his way carefully through the trees, stretching his senses out as he kept to the shadows. Water had begun to puddle on the forest floor, and though it helped mask his movement through the undergrowth, it was not something he particularly appreciated. His toes squeaked in his boots. Raindrops landed occasionally on his head and slid down his face, annoying like that pork bun was when she sang her stupid songs.

Here in this forest, there was only him, and the presence of another—Fai.

It didn't sit well with him, the haunted look that had flitted across the wizard's face when he'd met the accusations of the soldiers. It was the same look he'd worn when they'd crossed the invisible border of the city right after they'd landed in this world. The villagers had only been suspicious of Fai, and Fai— Fai had tensed up, then drawn his fake grin so quickly onto his face that Kurogane could only wonder why he'd had a reaction like that.

That Fai had followed the soldiers placidly into the forest did not reassure Kurogane any. Soldiers were only human, and—

_I can't die._

—and Fai would let himself suffer, it seemed. It made Kurogane uneasy imagining just how much the idiot would put himself through, so long as he didn't die. How much abuse would Fai tolerate? He'd died once in Outo and the thought of that occurring again sent a chill through Kurogane's bones. That  _idiot_.

He hurried toward the flicker of human life in the forest, slowed down when he approached the curled-up figure leaning into the hollow of a tree. It had been an hour since the man had been taken away into the forest. Kurogane had made sure that the soldiers hadn't been gone long, and had pressed first Touya, then Yukito, into giving Fai a chance. They didn't think Fai had caused the fire at the camp, but the soldiers were superstitious. It would not do to release the blond immediately.

The only other alternative, then, had been to go along with the quarantine that Fai was to be subjected to. They had argued about the length of time—one full day was the most Kurogane was willing to allow, and even then, it was risky, when the storm raged on and trees were liable to be struck by lightning at any point. Not to mention Fai's vulnerability when he was tied up.

The discussion had taken the better part of twenty minutes. Then, he'd been forced to help stretch another canvas over the burnt tent, and had asked around after so he knew how bad the damage was. Only a few men had been burnt. The rest were fine.

Kurogane debated over giving Fai the details of the situation. He didn't have the words to do so, and none of it really mattered, save for news on whether Fai would be released to join the army again.

So, he ended up scaling a tree diagonally to the front of the wizard to better observe him.

From his vantage point, Fai seemed to be fine. His face was tipped forward, expression shadowed, and he wasn't moving much. He didn't smell like blood—little comfort when the scent of rain and wet forest overpowered everything else. There wasn't much Kurogane could do for him at this juncture (Fai's life force still pulsed strong), so he settled against the tree trunk to wait. It was drier here than the forest floor.

For a time, neither of them moved. There was only the slow pelt of rain through the canopy and the occasional flare of lightning through the leaves.

Fai moved an hour later, when Kurogane was dozing. He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt, stretched his bound arms out behind him, and settled himself on a large root protruding from the ground. It was the grunt that stirred Kurogane; he watched as the other squirmed to find a comfortable position. Fai didn't move like he had been grievously injured, which eased his concerns some.

They stayed this way for another few hours. When Kurogane opened his eyes again, the water on the forest floor had reached Fai's ankles, and light was shining faintly through the clouds and canopy into the forest. Hunger prickled in his stomach. How bad was the flood at the campgrounds, and how were they to feed the soldiers? Was anyone coming to check on Fai?

The answer came a quarter hour later, when a rumble of masculine voices entered the forest. Kurogane sat a little straighter. At the noise, Fai had roused himself from sleep as well. He blinked blearily at first, then snapped awake when he realized where he was. Kurogane watched as the wizard stretched as best as he could with his hands and ankles bound—no visible sign of an injury.

A trio of soldiers came splashing through the water. They altered their course when they sighted the blond, similar looks of distrust and arrogance on their faces. Kurogane had made small talk with them before—gullible, fearful, rude. Loyal soldiers, but louts nonetheless. He hadn't been impressed.

"There he is, the witch."

"Don't get too close, he might set you on fire."

"He's all tied up, isn't he?"

They stopped a few feet away from Fai, who had adopted a friendly smile that didn't quite touch his eyes. The leader of the trio swaggered forward. He had a crooked, too-large nose that always struck Kurogane as an inviting target for a fist. "That was one of my friends who was burnt last night," he said. "It's your fault, isn't it."

Fai smiled blankly at him; Kurogane cursed beneath his breath. That idiot should really stop smiling.

Kurogane wasn't surprised at the fist that darted forward. Fai evaded it neatly  _(it looks like it'd hurt, Kuro-pon)_  and smiled again. His hands had tightened into fists behind his back.

At a sharp command, the two other soldiers who'd been watching rushed forward, and Fai, whose black eyes had flickered between all of them, backed away, wincing when they grabbed his arms and slammed him back into the tree. Their leader drew a short dagger from his waist, glanced around. "There's no one here," he said. "What should we do with you, witch?"

Kurogane wanted to shout at the idiot.  _Why didn't you dodge? Why didn't you defend yourself?_  But Fai didn't like to do that—he'd seen enough proof of it—and would much rather suffer the consequences of taking a blow than fighting back.

The man stepped up close to Fai, grabbed his chin between dirty fingers. Next to the wizard, all of Yama's men were at least half a head shorter, almost embarrassingly so. He bade his men turn Fai around, shoving his shoulders into the tree trunk. For an instant, the blond tensed, and Kurogane caught the uncertainty in his eyes. Silver arced, glinted down by Fai's thigh.

Kurogane was moving before he knew it. He'd dropped from the tree and covered the short distance, grabbed the men and flung them aside so hard they crashed into the neighboring trees.

His chest was burning with something fierce. Fury coursed through his blood, and it felt like he was made with liquid fire.

He grabbed at Fai's elbow, turned him around just in time to see resignation snap into relieved surprise.

"The fuck are you doing?" he snarled. "I won't have you die without your dignity."

Fai stared at him, chest rising and falling in shallow heaves. Kurogane didn't care; he wanted to shred those men in that moment. Through the years, he'd contemplated his parents' deaths, seen enough plundering of villages to be thankful that his mother only died with a sword wound to her chest, and nothing else. (It still hurt to think about his parents, but they were beyond his protection. Fai was not.)

"You're going to fucking live," he seethed. "I won't have you treating yourself like you're less than human."

The wizard was still looking at him in sheer incomprehension. Kurogane released him roughly, turned on the soldiers who were groaning and rubbing their hurts.

"You can't do this, I'll report you to Touya-sama!" Crooked Nose said. He got to his feet and straightened his shoulders.

"Fuck you." Kurogane advanced on him, left his killing intent unconcealed. "That guy's innocent. It was just a damn lightning strike, or are you so stupid you can't tell?"

Black eyes narrowed; the man jutted his chin out. He sent Fai a condescending look. "And what's this to you? Are you his lover? You were both gone an awful long time last night—"

Kurogane's fist connected with his jaw. The soldier stumbled backwards, cursing. His friends cried out in shock. "Lay another finger on him, and I'm the one you'll be answering to. I'll take you apart, limb by limb."

He wasn't lying.

"You can't attack a fellow soldier—"

"I'll take this up with Touya if I have to," Kurogane said, his voice dangerously low. He jerked his thumb towards Fai. "This guy is innocent unless you can prove him guilty, and you can't. What will the king say about his soldiers ganging up on a comrade?"

His fists were itching for a fight—this was far more important than fighting for the possession of some Moon Castle—and Kurogane barely restrained himself. He wasn't very much better off in status than Fai—he was still a newcomer, native lookalike or no.

Injured, Crooked Nose pulled himself to his full height and sent him a scathing look. "We're leaving. We were sent here to see if he's still around."

"Of course he is. What did you take him for?" Kurogane spat.

He listened until the soldiers removed themselves from the forest, grumbling the entire way, before turning back to Fai. The wizard had leaned back weakly against the tree, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched. If anything, he looked as though he wanted to hide himself away from Kurogane, as though he were at fault for any of this.

Kurogane swore. "Can't you stand up for yourself?" he muttered.

But even as he said it, he knew that the odds would have been against Fai—what was the word of one newcomer against soldiers who had been with the army for years? They could have easily twisted things around so it happened that Fai had been the one to attack them first. Kurogane knew politics. There had been enough of it at Shirasagi Castle.

Fai didn't answer. With some effort, it seemed, he drew a deep breath, then tried wearing a wan smile. Kurogane glared at him. "Quit smiling, you idiot."

The wizard was crap at hiding anything. Those eyes, black though they were in this world, carried an overwhelming sadness sometimes. Right now, Fai was shaken, in need of something.

He didn't resist when Kurogane curled an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Their chests bumped; Fai startled. Kurogane pushed the other's face down into his shoulder, and slowly, the tension in Fai's body ebbed out of him. He pressed closer.

When he recovered enough to pull away with a more genuine smile, Kurogane released him, curled his fingers through limp cornsilk hair. The wizard stiffened in surprise.

Kurogane pressed his lips briefly to the other's forehead, then turned so they didn't have to look at each other. "I'll bring you some food," he said.

He left without gesturing his intention—Fai would figure out as much when he returned.

* * *

The rest of the day passed drearily. Word had spread that Kurogane fought some soldiers in defense of the supposed witch (the people of Yama had no idea how close to the truth they really were), and a good half of the soldiers stepped warily around him, uncertain of his loyalties or sanity. He didn't really care. Touya had given him a stern talking-to, but that was that.

He'd brought some breakfast to Fai. Rice, various vegetables, some meat. (The high-strung cook had somehow started various cookfires in wide tins balanced on top of layers of wood, metal and mud and cooked up a storm, regardless of the miserable weather.) Fai had brightened at the sight of food, and his eyes twinkled when Kurogane set the plate in his lap.

The fucking idiot had opened his mouth expectantly, like Kurogane was going to feed him. He'd scoffed and untied the man's bonds—another clause he'd wrestled out of Touya. Kurogane would bring food to Fai, and someone else could come along and check that the wizard was still in the same spot. It worked well enough in their favor—he let Fai stretch his legs, and no one had any reason to bother the idiot.

When Fai whined a  _Kuro-mon_  and opened his mouth anyway, Kurogane had snapped at him, picked up a slice of yellow pickle and shoved it into that mouth. It was payback for the chocolate cake in Outo.

He'd watched in grim satisfaction when Fai scrunched his face up and spat the pickle out, gagging. It had hit the cold, calf-deep water with a wet  _plop_.

"Serves you right," he'd said.

Fai had turned primly away from him and eaten his food—an awkward combination of stabbing into things with his chopsticks and using the wider ends of the utensils to spoon rice into his mouth.

Practice had been boring. Kurogane easily found soldiers who were keen on going up against him in a fight, and it had been challenging at first to move through the muddy water with all that drag. None of them had Fai's speed and evasiveness (how did that idiot maintain his agility without any exercise?), though he'd found a number who had good, solid blows, and it had been decent practice pitting his strength against theirs.

He'd followed soldiers who were sent to check up on Fai. There had not been any other incidents like the first, so he'd left with the army to join in the nightly battle. By the time they returned, the water level had risen to mid-thigh. (He had not missed the flood at all during the fight.) The rain had eased a little, though it was still cold, and leeching body heat with every passing hour.

Most of the supplies had been carried to higher ground earlier in the day, and without access to the city or the farms, the soldiers were starting to face the beginnings of a food shortage. Kurogane was certain that the fields and city were severely flooded. It would not have mattered in the least to him, but for the fact that they had yet to hear any news about a kid and girl wandering around.

When he finally got to Fai, the wizard was perched on the tallest tree root and leaning against the tree trunk, huddled into the one blanket Kurogane had left him with. His face was haggard, and he was hardly keeping his eyes open. Kurogane muttered a curse, strode forward with the extra blankets that the soldiers had been passing around after they'd set up camp for the night.

"Hey," Kurogane said.

Fai's greeting was dull and soft. Kurogane had made sure to leave him with his ankles untied and his wrists loosely bound so he could escape if there was a need to. He'd even pointed at the branches, made it clear that Fai could climb a tree to stay clear of the floodwaters. But he hadn't, and had instead chosen to play the part of a good prisoner by staying close to the ground, even though climbing a tree would have kept him warm for longer. Kurogane untied Fai's wrists, rubbed warmth into his fingers and palms. The other was shivering a little. His movements were clumsy when he stretched and scrubbed his hands over his face, and he pressed in close to Kurogane.

A few of the other soldiers had already succumbed to hypothermia.

"You should've got out of the water," Kurogane said quietly. Fai glanced up at him in question, so he pointed between the wizard and a branch. The other's smile was sheepish.

Without warning, he hefted Fai over his shoulder and headed away from the camp. The other soldiers would probably notice his absence; he didn't really care at this point.

It took him fifteen minutes of slow wading to find a tree with low, sturdy branches, and another two to get Fai to climb up onto the nearest branch without falling off. When he was certain that the idiot wouldn't topple over, Kurogane scaled the tree himself and handed Fai a waterskin, warm from where he'd tucked it against his side. Fai gulped it down thirstily. The branch they shared was thick enough that they could straddle it without too much discomfort.

He secured the waterskin to himself when Fai returned it, then pushed a leaf-wrapped package of rice into the blond's hands. The cook had made enough for leftovers for the cold weather; he'd helped himself while the rest were busy making preparations for bed or tucking into their suppers.

Fai's forehead wrinkled. He offered the rice to Kurogane; he shook his head. "I've eaten."

He didn't miss the wizard's murmur of what could be thanks, watched as the other looked between the rice and his empty hand.

"Eat with your fingers," he said. Held up two fingers. "You can't use chopsticks anyway."

Watching Fai wipe his hands on his clothes and tentatively tip the contents of the conical leaf package into his mouth, Kurogane was reminded of the time Mokona brought them to a sushi shop. There hadn't been chopsticks there, either. They'd eaten, and with no money to pay for their food, the meat bun had whisked them off to the next world.

It wasn't something he was proud of, but it was a fond memory nonetheless. Fai glanced over when he huffed an amused breath.

"It's nothing," he said, shook his head.

A tired, sly smile crept onto Fai's mouth—he leaned over, said something in that lilting language of his. Kurogane nudged him away.

When the wizard was done with the rice and had let the empty leaf flutter down into the dark water below, Kurogane plucked at his soggy trousers. "You're going to get hypothermia wearing this," he said. "You've already lost too much heat."

Fai sent him a considering look. Before long, he was clutching the branch with one hand and wriggling out of his clothes. In the process, he almost fell backwards, and Kurogane barely caught him before he lost his balance. He ended up straddling the branch and leaning heavily on Kurogane to rid himself of his trousers.

With some rope he'd borrowed from the campsite, Kurogane fashioned a hammock with his own outer shirt, lashed it to the branch they were sitting on, and dropped their various pieces of leather and metal into it. Fai attempted to whistle when he stood on the branch to strip off his own drenched clothing; he kicked the idiot in the ass.

Ten minutes later, he'd padded the rough branch with some leather armor so they wouldn't both catch splinters on their bare legs, among other things. Kurogane had Fai scoot closer to the trunk—he'd be sheltered from the cold this way—then wrapped the thin, musty blankets around them both.

Neither of them really minded when he curled himself awkwardly around the shivering blond, chest pressed snug against a thin, bony back. His feet were tucked between Fai's thighs and ankles, and it really wasn't all that comfortable. If they tipped over to one side... both of them would fall. Into cold, murky water. Probably break their necks.

Fai attempted to joke about it. He said a string of words, arms wrapped around his legs, and Kurogane reached up to cover his mouth. Fai's skin was grimy, like his was, and warm breath puffed wetly on his thumb.

"Shut up and sleep," he said. "Maybe this damn rain will stop tomorrow."

It wasn't long before Fai relaxed into him, his scent of sweat and musk familiar in the waterlogged forest.

* * *

Rain was whispering noisily all around them when Fai woke, tapping on leaves and dripping into water with light, musical tinkling.

He cracked his eyes open sleepily, lulled into a sense of peace by the rhythmic sounds and a warm, heavy weight wrapped around him. It was dim beneath the forest canopy. He was a little hungry. His teeth were tacky. His neck ached. He'd been curled up like this all night, and—

Kurogane.

He snapped his head up and hissed when pain jolted through his neck at the movement. The heat that had been pressed down on his shoulder lifted away, and a low, familiar rumble sounded next to his ear.

Kurogane had been sleeping pressed up against him the entire night.

Fai tensed, uncertain. On a basal level, he knew that this had been to raise his body temperature. He'd stupidly soaked in the flood waters for too long yesterday, and he hadn't been thinking straight when Kurogane returned from the battle. He'd needed to regain the heat he'd lost before he succumbed to illness.

There was that, and then there was the fact that Kurogane had hugged him in the morning, after the trio of soldiers had left. He'd known the warrior was watching, didn't think himself worthy of staving off a potential assault, not when he'd deserved all the injuries and hurt he'd been evading thus far. If they'd taken out their anger on him, they would leave him alone after, right? Like how he'd been locked in that tower on Valeria?

Kurogane's dark eyes had blazed. It wasn't that he'd thought Fai deserved what had been coming. If he did, he wouldn't have flung the men aside.

"Why do you care?" he mumbled, voice sleep-rough. "You shouldn't be this concerned about me, Kuro-sir."

The ninja shifted behind him. He heard joints pop.

"I'm not the person you think I am, you know. I don't deserve to be treated like this." Fai looked down at the worn woollen blankets, which were scratchy now that he was sharp enough to really notice them. "I'm a liar, a traitor. I'm just a puppet."

Kurogane had stilled behind him. He was listening.

Like the few minutes they'd spent out of Mokona's translation range in that car two worlds ago, this was oddly comforting, admitting to all this without having to deal with the other's reaction. This way, he was telling someone in their travelling group, even if Kurogane didn't understand what he was saying. "I killed my brother. We chose to live instead of having the other die, and Valeria was cursed as a result. I couldn't kill Ashura-tii when he asked me to. And he destroyed the people of Celes.

"I'm an idiot and I'm selfish, and cruel and probably all the names you've called me." He drew a shaky breath. "You really should stay away."

That was more than what he'd meant to say. Fai bit the rest of his words back. For a moment, he wondered how Kurogane would react if he'd understood all of that. Would he be skinned alive? Torn limb from limb? Maybe.

"You aren't ever subtle, are you?" he asked, unable to help a smile. "That's how you are."

(But Kurogane had kissed his forehead and he was not. Thinking. About. That.)

"We should get moving," Fai said. "I'm tired of sitting around, even if it's easy. It's boring."

Kurogane helped when he picked at the blankets around them. He folded the layers together, lay them across the thinner section of the branch, and fished out the clothes they'd bundled together in the hammock. It wasn't easy getting dressed on a tree branch. Fai almost fell over twice, and each time, Kurogane had caught him with a low grumble.

He was beginning to identify the sounds that meant  _idiot_.

It was a little dim in the forest by the time they made it back into the water—now waist-high and still rising. Fai winced. He missed warm, dry clothing very, very much. Kurogane groused, pointed up at the canopy, and mimicked writing things in the air.

Fai made a face at him. "I'm not going to use my magic, Kuro-pai. Especially not for something so trivial."

But he thought about the various ways he could erase a storm like this, anyway, as a mental exercise. (He could conjure a wind to blow the clouds away. He could dry it all up with a fireball. Or he could shrink the cloud, freeze it, build a bubble around it, transport it somewhere else. Maybe another world.)

The ninja grumbled again, so Fai pointed at himself, attempted the words in the Nihonese language, "i-diot."

Kurogane's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He clicked his tongue, looked away. "Idiot."

For all Fai knew, it could be a word for  _careless_ , or  _stop falling off the tree_ , or  _maybe you'll finally split your skull_. But Kurogane frequently addressed him by variations of  _idiot_ , so.

With sturdy branches that Kurogane broke off to serve as walking sticks, they slowly picked their way across the forest. The rain quickly soaked their damp clothes once again, and by the time they'd crossed the large clearing where the camp had been, Fai was positive that there was mud in his boots.

Dread sneaked into his gut when they drew close enough to the new makeshift camp that the sounds of the morning crowd could be heard. He turned his grimace into a smile; Kurogane noticed. The ninja clicked his tongue, stepped closer so that he shielded Fai partway from sight. They attracted glances as they strode through the camp, and Fai straightened his shoulders like Kurogane had demonstrated, lifted his chin. He knew what it looked like to be confident. Kurogane's glower kept the majority of the soldiers from hurling taunts.

The flood had been left behind sometime during their trek on higher ground; Fai was immensely grateful for this. He followed Kurogane up to Touya and Yukito, who were talking to their friends in the camp. There was a short exchange. Touya waved towards a tent that Fai recognized as the one Yasha used as an office, accompanied by his bodyguards.

The four of them waited to be admitted into the tent. Standing in the chilly rain, with mud oozing out of his boots and Kurogane a solid presence next to him, Fai would never have thought that this would remind him of his younger self hovering outside Ashura's study, waiting to be called in for a lecture about not enchanting the cutlery so they sang. (Even if it made the kitchen staff smile. All he'd been doing was to practice getting along with people, after all.) But it did.

Some minutes later, the tent flap was pulled back. Touya headed in first, followed by Kurogane and Fai. Yukito brought up the rear.

The discussion itself wasn't lengthy. Fai heard his name mentioned a handful of times as he looked around the interior of the makeshift office. Yasha had a stack of reports and a map on the desk he was sitting behind. He met Fai's gaze on occasion—they both knew what the other was. Fai, because he'd created Chii from a feather just like the one Yasha was made of, and Yasha, a magical construct acknowledging one who had the power to undo him. He was an innocent in this case, however, and Yasha knew that.

At length, Yasha nodded, and Touya turned to Fai with a smirk. Yukito wore a warmer smile.

It was almost ironic how he was being ordered around by nothing more than a piece of Sakura's magic.

The officers herded them out, and Touya called the soldiers around. Fai schooled his features into one of pleasant hopefulness, listened as Touya announced what Yasha had decided. From the officer's commanding tones, he guessed that Touya was declaring him a normal, non-magical person, and was warning the rest of the soldiers against targeting him. (Or so he hoped.)

With a final word, Touya ended the announcement, nodded at Fai. Fai bowed his thanks, stepped forward, and some of the soldiers who'd shared his tent or given him instructions during his first days came up to clap him on the shoulder. They still wore uncertainty on their faces. Hopefully, the children would come along soon and they'd move on to the next world. Either that, or he and Kurogane would eventually fit in with the rest of the soldiers. Fai chanced a look at the ninja; he was studying the rest of their comrades warily.

Here, in Yama, where he couldn't weave lies to protect himself, Kurogane was still watching him. Kurogane would go out of his way to protect him, even if Fai thought he deserved whatever would come to pass otherwise. Perhaps if he were stronger, or braver, Kurogane wouldn't observe him as closely. (Who was he kidding?) Perhaps, if he had something else to distract Kurogane with, Kurogane would look away.

Perhaps, if he had something he could borrow strength from, things would be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is probably the shortest chapter in this fic? :P More will happen soon - can you guess what? ;)


	3. Drawings

 

The storm began to die down the next day, and five days after the thunderclouds had gathered, the rain was gone, leaving wispy clouds and clear springtime skies in its wake. Word came from the city that the rice crop had perished, though the farmers had enough seeds left over to attempt a second season of staples. Food would be rationed in the meantime; their diet would shift to fish, other meats, and vegetables that grew quickly.

When Kurogane painstakingly imparted this information to Fai, Fai had pulled a face—he still hadn't forgotten his first bad experience with fish. (The bones, the fishiness of the meat. It was _disgusting_.) The warrior had retorted that, had Fai made an effort to chase the storm away, they would not be facing this situation. Fai, through the use of multiple deep drawings in the slow-drying mud, had explained that the storm was a force of nature they shouldn't reckon with.

They had not come to an understanding on that petty argument.

In the aftermath of the storm, the campgrounds and the roads from the city took days to fully dry. The officers and generals had taken the chance to reshape the landscape with soft mud—lifted platforms on which the tents could be anchored, more wells, and even a sliver of land set aside to grow some crops. Some trees were felled to replace the furniture lost during the flood, and tents were reestablished when the ground was deemed sturdy enough.

For a while after, things settled back into the old routine: drills, equipment maintenance, fighting late into the night at the Moon Castle. Fai slowly began to relax into his surroundings once more, when the rest of the soldiers began to see him as merely the odd one out.

Fighting to defend the moon castle was the one thing that never changed. Every night, Fai and Kurogane were transported to the spherical rock in the sky, and they would resume their intricate, back-to-back dance that had drawn the attention of a number of soldiers. After, they would return to camp, bathe, and retire for the night.

Things changed a month into their fledgling careers in Yasha's army.

Although the battle between the Yasha and Ashura clans had been going on for decades, and although the fighting each night ended in a draw, the generals and officers of Yasha's army were not content to maintain the status quo. Every so often, an officer or general would come up with a new strategy in order to get the upper hand over their enemies. The tactic may or may not work, but Yasha's men were always eager to give the ideas a try.

The new strategy this time around was all but fool-proof—at least, the officers and generals seemed to think so. Kurogane was less than enthusiastic in his translation of their plans, and Fai tried his best to understand the alternate solutions Kurogane drew into the soft ground between their cots.

That very night, one of the officers made a mistake that Kurogane had foreseen. Midway through leading his men away from the new plan gone wrong, he was shot to the ground with an arrow through his neck.

The soldiers under his command had been thrown into chaos, unnoticed by the remaining officers who were busy ordering their own men to fall back.

Fai watched as Kurogane swore and shouted at the men, who were only too glad to be told which direction they should go. He ended up at the front lines of the battle with the ninja, taking down enemy soldiers who got too close.

It was a tough fight, buying time so their comrades could retreat. By the end of it, even Kurogane's movements were slower, and he was clenching his jaw to prevent his exhaustion from showing. He hadn't relaxed much by the time they were transported back to the campgrounds in Yama Country. Fai had offered to support Kurogane to the soldiers' bathing area, to which the other snapped a refusal.

The next morning, when they were done with breakfast, Kurogane led him to the lines forming outside the administrative tent. Metal clinked as their queue snaked ever closer to the tent; Fai perked up at the prospect of receiving his wages. Kurogane had told him, early on, that the men of Yama worked in the military, while the womenfolk tended to the fields and the shops in the city. What would his wages allow him to purchase?

The officer who doled out their pay wasn't Touya or Yukito, but a sullen-looking man who had more wrinkles between his eyebrows than everyone else in the army put together. Kurogane jerked his thumb at Fai, said a string of words, followed by his name, "Fai."

It was the third time Kurogane had spoken his name. The first had been when they'd enlisted in the army, and the second was right before he'd been quarantined during the storm. Fai still hadn't grown used to the warrior saying it. It was too intimate, almost.

Kurogane was looking elsewhere when the officer set two iron ingots on the wide wooden table, between sheaves of thick paper and coarse sacks of ingots of different materials—plenty of copper, some iron, and a handful of silver. Fai glanced between the dark grey ingots on the table, and the splotch of red-brown and grey Kurogane held in his hand. When he hesitated, Kurogane looked back.

His forehead furrowed. He cut a sharp look at the officer, said a short string of words, and waved at Fai.

The officer said something else in return, a mix of defensiveness and irritation, jabbed at his roster. Kurogane looked; Fai didn't—the language here was beyond his grasp.

Kurogane swore, raised his voice. He pointed at Fai again, and Fai got the distinct feeling that the warrior was arguing on his behalf. It would have been nice, if it weren't for the looks they were drawing from the soldiers around them. He hid a wince. Two iron ingots was better than none at all, and he wanted to be away from all the curious staring, that could very well turn into looks of distrust.

So Fai smiled, grabbed the cool iron ingots off the table, and waved Kurogane away. He pushed ahead to the exit.

As he expected, Kurogane stormed after him, muttering an incensed string of words the entire time. Except that Kurogane grabbed him by the elbow once they passed out of sight of the soldiers still in line, dragging him into the forest. They walked for five minutes in silence, undergrowth whispering around them. At length, Kurogane stopped and whirled on Fai, his features twisted in a scowl. He pointed at the ingots Fai still clutched in his hand.

"I know," Fai said. "I'm supposed to be paid more than this."

Kurogane's frown deepened. His next words ended on a lifting note.  _Then why?_

Fai shrugged, looked away. He doubted that the other understood, anyhow. "It's fine. I don't care."

With an irate huff, Kurogane crouched close to the ground, cleared some leaves away, and found a stick. He sketched a couple of stick figures, shaded the hair on one, and drew glasses on the other—their code for Touya and Yukito—then pointed between himself, the drawing of Touya, and the ingots in Fai's hand.

He was going to talk to Touya about Fai's pay.

Fai jerked his shoulders again, turned away. "It's okay, Kuro-lief. You don't have to."

Kurogane cast him a skeptical look.

"I don't know how we're going to spend these, anyway." Fai stretched his hand out, offered the heavy, burnished weights to Kurogane. "You can have mine. It's not like there's anything we need to buy, and you'll get better prices on things, too."

The warrior shook his head, wrapped a large hand around Fai's fingers to close them around his wages, then pushed them back. Fai shrugged and shoved the ingots into his boot. He'd need somewhere to store money like that, somewhere safe, where it wouldn't be stolen. Neither he nor Kurogane had more than the clothes on their backs. Worse, he'd left all his original clothing back in Shara Country—all that he had left of Celes.

There was a faint emptiness tugging in his chest. He was especially fond of that powder-blue cloak, with its enchantments to keep the weather out, and the deep hood he could hide beneath whenever he wanted.

Kurogane must have seen the look on his face, because he said a short, sharp word. When Fai didn't make to speak further, the man continued to sketch on the ground: a crescent moon. He drew the castle in the sky: a circle high above the horizon, with a building on it. Then, he pointed between that and the moon, curled his hand against his face and closed his eyes briefly to represent sleep, before pointing at the figure of Touya he'd drawn earlier. An encounter with Touya last night, or tonight, before he slept? Or perhaps a dream?

The man began to sketch various figures: one he named as Yasha aloud, then several heads below the drawings of Touya and Yukito. Next, he pointed at Touya again, pointed at himself, then drew an arrow from the sea of soldiers to the tier of officers.

Touya wanted Kurogane to become an officer.

Fai gaped, took the stick from Kurogane, and sketched Big Doggy on the ground. He added a strip of cloth to the creature's forehead—what the officers here wore as a mark of their status. Kurogane nodded tightly. Fai smiled at him, clapped his hands, and said, "Hyuu!"

It was the fake whistle, more than his failed attempts, that Kurogane found most annoying. Kurogane clicked his tongue, waved dismissively. After the way Kurogane had directed the troops to safety last night, and with a vacant officer's position, Fai wasn't surprised that their superiors would want Kurogane to take up that mantle.

He drew Big Kitty next, connected it to the rest of the soldiers with another arrow, and raised his eyebrows. Kurogane nodded again, but didn't look any happier.

"Are you worried about me, Kuro-Kuro?" he asked, smiled at the other.

Kurogane heaved a sigh, said a short string of words, then straightened, kicking at the drawings so they smudged into formless dirt once more.

Fai blinked at him, thought about what he'd seen of Touya and Yukito. When Kurogane made to turn away, he called the man back, drew a quick sketch of the two officers and a tent, and pointed between all three. "They get a tent," he said, before drawing another tent, and pointing at Kurogane. "So you'll get a tent for yourself too."

The warrior pursed his lips for a moment, before crouching back down and waving between himself and Fai, and the second tent.

 _We're sharing a tent,_  was what he meant.

Fai stared at him, wondered if he wanted to tease the other. Before he could decide, however, Kurogane had glanced to the side and stood again, and the tips of his ears were pink.

His pulse stumbled a little. Fai decided that he wouldn't press the issue, instead kicking dirt over his fresh drawings. There were more important things to consider, like how the rest of the army would react to a newcomer ascending the ranks before they did.

* * *

As it happened, Yasha's army took well to Kurogane becoming an officer. They had watched him spar with Fai for a month now, and those who had gone up against him had been defeated with finesse. He directed his soldiers well, contributed to discussions, and was slowly turning the nightly battles in their favor. He had more tasks now than before, and Fai saw less of him when he was called away to meetings with Yasha and the rest of his officers every other night or so.

In his free time, Fai avoided the rest of the army when he could—their opinions of him had shifted again ever since he'd moved into Kurogane's tent the same night the warrior had been given his separate lodgings.

He hadn't wanted to at first, when the time came for them to retire for the night. Kurogane had followed him to the entrance of the soldiers' sleeping tent and grabbed his elbow, nodding towards the direction of the officers' tents. Fai had dragged his feet—it would be blindingly obvious if he never returned to his cot, and he wasn't sure what the other soldiers would think of him being Kurogane's lover (there was hardly any other way for them to see it, not when Fai clearly belonged with the rest of the soldiers).

(It wasn't like they weren't lovers on occasion, either. Not that Fai would admit to it.)

So, Kurogane had marched him into the soldiers' tent and packed up his own meager belongings, as well as Fai's, and marched right out like it wasn't the business of anyone else (it really wasn't). There had been wolf-whistles following them out—Fai had given an apologetic grin and bowed and fled the tent, and it wasn't until he stepped into Kurogane's tent that he realized there were two cots there—one for each of them.

(They'd had sex that night—like they could hope to say otherwise—and Kurogane had left him on the cot and taken the other for himself.)

After, the responses of the soldiers had been mixed; some grinned suggestively at him, some gave him revolted looks, and others didn't care at all. Kurogane treated him the same; he didn't need to contemplate to know that it was the ninja's presence he liked best.

The soldiers who had threatened him during the storm were still around, however—Fai remembered Crooked Nose and his friends. The resentful, darting glances they sent him weren't missed, either by himself or Kurogane, and he made certain to stay out of their way. Despite Kurogane being an officer, there would only be so much he could do if Fai were to fight them on the campgrounds and win. He wanted to be able to stand up to them so Kurogane wouldn't have a reason to keep an eye on him all the time, but...

More and more frequently, Fai found himself wishing for that tattoo on his back, if only so he could have a companion, a source of strength he could draw from.

* * *

Kurogane woke one morning in the dim light of his new tent to find a sketch on the trampled dirt ground, at the foot of their pulled-together cots.

He frowned, sat slowly at the foot of his bed so he could buckle his armor on, tracing with his eyes first the large rectangle that was just as wide as his shoulders, then the characters that Fai had sketched sometime while he'd been asleep.

The drawing itself was made of a number of panels, reading right-to-left like the maganyan he'd been collecting through the worlds. (He was surprised that Fai even knew that, but the idiot could've asked Mokona about the comics at some point.) Big Doggy had his face in a bowl of food in the first panel, much to Kurogane's ire. In the second, he was licking his chops and padding along somewhere—out of a house and onto a sidewalk, then along some city-like streets. In the third, a car on the road had lost control, and by the fourth panel, Big Doggy was staring wide-eyed as the vehicle came careening towards him.

"The hell?" Kurogane muttered.

Big Doggy leaped out of the way of the oncoming car. Unfortunately, someone else was in the way—someone who looked annoyingly familiar, with light-colored hair and too-long limbs—and they both crashed into the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding a gory fate. The blond (there was no way he was anything else) in the comic startled in surprise. Then, there was an explosion.

When Big Doggy came to, he was staring in the reflective glass of a shopfront. What stared back at him wasn't a dog, however; it was a man with a shaggy mop of dark hair.

"I'm not even a dog to begin with!" Kurogane bristled, turned back to glower at the wizard blinking sleepily up at him. Fai's smile was catlike, and he reached out to grab Kurogane's ratty pillow for himself. "Oi!"

It had taken all of one night of sharing a tent for Fai to be excessively comfortable around Kurogane. He'd dragged his cot noisily over at the start of the second night, close enough so he could whisper his nonsense after the murmur of voices outside had faded into the low, incessant chirping of crickets. Prior to that, Kurogane had brought him into the forest every other day, so he could talk his heart out without being overheard.

(That had been necessary because Fai's mood dipped the longer he had to fake muteness. Kurogane wasn't about to admit that the blond chattering with a smile on his face was a damn sight better than him slouching around with his eyes downcast. Fai hadn't questioned the motives behind allowing him to talk, so Kurogane didn't bother to explain, either.)

As it was, Kurogane had allowed Fai to leave inches between their cots, on the pretext that the idiot wouldn't have to whisper as loud for himself to be heard.

Right now, however, Fai was rolling around on his cot, one pillow between his legs and the other clutched in his arms, and he'd squirmed around so he could admire his handiwork over the end of his bed. He swept his gaze over the drawing, glanced at Kurogane with an indulgent smile.

Kurogane wanted to smack that look off his face. Or kiss it off. Or whatever. Instead, he glared, jabbed a finger at the last panel. "I'm not a dog!"

Fai just smiled more.

So he stood and scuffed the drawings back into the dirt with his foot, scowling the entire time. Fai was hardly fazed; all he did was flop on his back and stretch languidly. His lean stomach peeked out from the gap of his light sleeping clothes.

Kurogane frowned, looked away. "I'm heading out first. See you later."

* * *

The incomprehensible chatter continued late into the nights, and every few days or so, Kurogane would wake to a new page of drawings at the foot of their cots.

It turned out that Big Doggy had become a shapeshifter. He could return to being a human at will, though he remained a dog and went home, where there was always food. (Kurogane liked to think of Big Doggy's owner as Tomoyo. It seemed Fai had remembered their discussion about princesses, because he found that Fai had drawn his fragile, beautiful princess into the story one day—the hand that scritched Big Doggy behind the ears belonged to a dark-haired girl with large eyes.) The blond wizard that had cursed Big Doggy was never seen again, but Big Doggy found himself two charges—a kitten and a puppy—who had met the same fate as he did.

* * *

The soldiers of Yasha's army were given a day off every two weeks, provided that they returned to fight on the battlefield that same night. With the debut of his shapeshifter comic, Fai had begun to notice how Kurogane scrutinized soldiers who carried with them a stack of scrolls, in the hopes of finding this world's issue of his beloved maganyan. They'd made plans to visit the city together the next chance they received—Kurogane so he could visit the bookshop, and Fai to look around (or so he'd pantomimed to the warrior).

Thus, when their first break after payday rolled around, and when Kurogane appeared in their tent even before Fai had properly dressed, a deep frown weighing on his face, Fai cocked his head in question.

Kurogane crouched on the ground next to Fai's cot, picked up the sturdy stick they were using to sketch. He drew the block-like tents of the city, then shook his head. He jabbed his thumb at himself, pointed behind him, drew a stick figure of Yasha's dragon-lizard steeds. Fai took that to mean that Kurogane had tasks to do with the steeds today, and would not be able to join him on his trip to the city.

Deep down, the prospect was exciting, because Kurogane would not be able to see what Fai had been hoping to investigate. He smiled, took the drawing stick from the other, sketched Big Kitty with a book in its paw. Fai fished his iron ingots out of his boot, showed them to Kurogane, pointed at the sketch of the maganyan on the ground.

The ninja studied him for a bit, then drew out the pouch he kept his money in, and emptied it into Fai's hand. The copper and iron ingots were warm in his palm.

Fai blinked at him. A simple comic wouldn't cost an entire month's pay. Kurogane shrugged, tucked his empty pouch away, so Fai slipped the new ingots into his other boot.

"You shouldn't trust me with your money either," he whispered. "There's something I want that is probably very expensive."

But Kurogane showed no sign of comprehension. He answered with a short string of words, pointed between Fai and the ground at his feet, and mimicked eating.  _Come back for food._

Fai smiled and wondered if he'd be able to make it back in time.

* * *

The city of Yama was one of sprawling tents and bustling crowds. All around, womenfolk manned the stores, shopped, jiggled infants on their hips and gossiped with each other. Scents of food carried on the air, some savory, some sweet, some fishy (Fai tried not to gag at those). The vendors' wares were colorful—there were cottons and fruits and jewelry, and he saw some men and women dressed in clothes that were completely different from the robes the Yama women wore. They had to be peddlers from distant lands, ones that had stopped fighting over the Moon Castle.

Fai took a detour around the marketplace, knowing that the vendors would be looking out for extra business from the men in the army. He didn't particularly want to attract attention to himself. Instead, he swept his gaze over the wood-and-canvas booths until he found one with several stacks and rolls of paper.

It was imperative that he purchase Kurogane's comic first. Fai had no way to tell how much a tattoo would cost, so he strode to the paper booth, scanning its tables for the telltale drawings that he'd seen on a number of occasions.

This world's maganyan came in the form of a rolled-up scroll, it seemed. He spotted a pile of scrolls in a corner of the booth, out of reach, and smiled at the pretty vendor, pointing towards them. She eyed him suspiciously, picked up one of the scrolls. Through a series of gesturing, Fai got her to unwind the roll—the drawings were of the same characters, albeit in a different style. He figured that Kurogane would tell him if it turned out to be the wrong one. When he found out that the price of the comic was a quarter of the iron ingot, Fai pointed at a stack of blank, rough paper. It didn't hurt to stock up on the material when he didn't have any on him.

The total on his purchase was half an iron ingot. He received his change in the form of coins, smiled, and headed away, tucking his precious bundle between the layers of his armor.

It took Fai far longer to locate a tattooist's shop. He found a few women with tattoos on their arms, pointed at them to ask where they'd got it. Some misunderstood his wordless questions and shouted at him; others shrugged, and a handful pointed him in vague directions through the city.

He estimated that he'd spent an entire hour wandering around before he was waved down a winding row of tent-homes, each decorated with cheerful, colorful paintings around their entrance flaps. Hope bloomed within his ribs; he hurried along and found a large, black painting on one of the tents—thin, swooping lines curling unto themselves on either flap, like a musical score come alive.

Fai hovered at the entrance, uncertain about how he should announce his presence. (In Yasha's army, they called through the tent flaps, though he didn't know if this occurred in civilian homes—it seemed so rude.)

He was saved from having to decide when a slim hand parted the tent flaps from inside, and a pale, small face smiled out at him. She was no older than Sakura, it seemed, with her smooth skin and rich, grey-black hair cascading past her shoulders. Fai thought she looked vaguely familiar.

The girl stood back and beckoned him inside—he had to stoop to clear the canvas of her doorway. Within, the tent was divided into partitions. The sitting room was adorned with rich rugs, and numerous paintings lined the wall, some of faces, and others clearly designs of some sort. Fai was in the middle of looking at the pictures when he found one that looked uncannily like Sakura, and one of Kurogane.

He whipped his head to stare back at her, hope beating in his chest. Had she seen the children?

Her words to him were low and musical, and he caught the name "Tomoyo" in that string of sounds. Before he had time to gape, she'd pointed at the painting of the warrior and said, "Kurogane."

"How?" he asked, even though the ninja had explicitly forbidden him to.

Tomoyo did not seem surprised at his language. In fact, there had been no judgement in her eyes since she first sighted him. She smiled, patted a plush chair in her sitting room and looked expectantly at him. He sat.

She disappeared past one of the partitions, brought two teacups and a steaming pot of tea out in the next minute; Fai stared in surprise. About ten different questions were swirling in his head, and he had no way of getting them all across to her. So, he waited while she poured tea out for them both. It was only after he'd taken the first sip of tea—mild and mellow and only very slightly bitter, unlike the tea back at the camp—that she tilted her head to the side, inviting questions.

"Sakura?" He pointed at the drawing. "Have you seen her?"

Tomoyo pressed her hands together, laid her head on them and closed her eyes, before slipping one hand out and fluttering it above her head. A dream, then. She could have seen the princess and Kurogane both in a dream, and not have any idea who or where they were.

He smiled at her to hide his disappointment.

Tomoyo laid her hand on his wrist, looked steadily into his eyes. In that moment, it felt as though he was being read, much like the way Kurogane read him. Fai tensed. She released him then, patted his hand and smiled. Her next words were soft, soothing, and he slowly relaxed. If this girl shared the soul of Kurogane's princess, he could understand why the warrior was so determined to return to his home world, and to her.

He sipped from his teacup, remembered belatedly to introduce himself. "Fai," he said, pressed a hand to his chest.

"Fai," she echoed and smiled.

He decided that it was easier to broach the topic of the tattoo—because that was why he was even in the city at all. He glanced around for an ink-black painting, pointed at it, then at his back. Tomoyo lit up.

With her, it was easy to straighten out the details of the tattoo without needing much speech. He told her how big a tattoo he wanted; she led him to the next room, where there were some chairs and stools, a wooden cabinet of glass pigment bottles, and some metal tools on a table. She unrolled a large sheet of thin, crinkling paper on another table, weighted it down with a bottle of ink and a stone paperweight, before handing him a brush.

It took him barely two minutes to finish the painting. The design had been sitting in his mind like a heavy, polished stone, and when he looked up from the drawing, fresh longing in his gut, Tomoyo was in the midst of preparing her tools. She looked very young to be doing something like this—then again, Fai hadn't been very old when he'd stopped that avalanche, either.

Tomoyo glanced up when she felt his gaze. Her attention dropped to his painting, and there was somehow a slow, kind sadness in her eyes when she saw it.

Fai didn't ask what she thought about the design.

They discussed the price of the tattoo—two iron ingots exactly—and Fai stripped himself of his upper garments, settling into the chair she pointed him to. By way of an hourglass, Tomoyo had told him that this would take a long time.

Fai was prepared to wait. He been waiting since the start of this journey, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yama, the land of animal shapeshifter comics and where Tomoyo is Fai's tattooist. Yes. ;) What more can we possibly want? Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Ink and Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... your tattoo questions will be answered in this chapter. ;) This entire tattoo idea was actually inspired by my other oneshot thing, "ink on my back", if you haven't read that yet ;)

 

For all that he'd heard whispers about how much physical tattoos hurt, the process itself wasn't actually that daunting. With an oil lamp throwing yellow light onto them, Fai watched through a mirror as Tomoyo dipped her metal comb-like brush into the tube of ink she held between the small fingers of her other hand, the one that stretched his skin so she could pierce it with swift, rhythmic strokes loaded with black pigment.

He learned to expect the light, prickling pain after the first few punctures. The tattoo was worth the pain—it was bravery he was taking onto his skin, courage, and a momento of his beloved king.

Tomoyo started off by saying strings of gentle, consonant-filled words now and again, though she quickly found that he preferred when she hummed soothing tunes to him. Fai caught the melodies and hummed along with her. They reminded him of cradle lullabies, and she repeated them sometimes; at others, she introduced him to new tunes that he liked just as much.

She dabbed the fluids off his skin at regular intervals, brought them both tea and some sweet cakes every other hour or so. The cakes were dense but delicious. Fai had never taken a real liking to the rice and vegetables of military fare, but these, the maroon, rectangular cakes that Tomoyo seemed to have a never-ending supply of, he was certain he could eat forever.

Hour by hour, the design on his back grew. It began with the crowned head of the phoenix, spread to the wings that were crossed in front of it, to the rest of the bird and its great, sweeping tail. Tomoyo had allowed him to stretch and walk around while she fetched refreshments, though he still felt the ache in his muscles when she finally patted him on the arm and smiled, gesturing for him to take a look in the mirror.

Fai made his way over to the looking-glass, part-hesitant, part-eager. When he looked over his shoulder, his breath snagged in his throat; his chest grew tight.

The bold sweep of those lines were just like they had looked so many months ago, thick and unyielding, black like he was. His back ached with a new emptiness—he was without Ashura's magic now, even with this tattoo. He couldn't feel the familiar prickle of magic, only a stinging, dull pain much like the sunburn he caught on occasion.

For a brief moment, he wondered if he should enchant the tattoo, give it life of some sort so he had a companion who could understand him now that Kurogane could not. It was still lonely, despite his nightly chattering at the warrior. Kurogane couldn't return his banter. After a while, Fai decided against the enchantment. He shouldn't wear his magic, even if it wouldn't require all that much to animate something as lightweight as ink on his back.

For all that the tattoo was a ghost, like he was, it also represented bravery, for the way the phoenix now crossed its wings in front of itself. It embodied his hopes of being able to defend himself so Kurogane didn't have to. It was a shield he could draw around himself, something else he could hide behind. It was everything, because it was his one reminder of Ashura's kindness, and nothing, because he was still on the run, and nothing had really changed.

He drew a deep breath, smiled at Tomoyo when she came to stand by him, eyebrows lifted in question.

"Thank you," he said, pressed his hands to his chest and dipped his chin. She smiled.

Dressing the tattoo didn't take any time at all, compared to the hours he'd spent braced against the back of the wooden chair. Tomoyo deftly applied a cooling ointment across the tattoo, then bandaged it loosely, conveying through various gestures that he wasn't to wear tight clothing with it, or scratch the tattoo while it was healing.

It was late into the evening, dinnertime at the camp, when he thought to ask for a portrait of her—Kurogane would be interested in this world's Tomoyo, he was certain, and he didn't know if they'd stay around long enough for the warrior to meet with her. She obliged, pulled a piece of paper over, and sketched herself with quick brushstrokes. Before he could protest, she'd painted his face next to hers, too.

Fai wondered if Kurogane would rip his half of the drawing off, tear his face into shreds, but didn't think too much about it. Maybe if he angered the ninja enough, he would.

The thought hurt, somehow. He brushed it off, collected his things, and pulled his armor on as he prepared to leave. The snacks Tomoyo had been feeding him kept him satisfied through the day—all he needed now was some solid food to last him through the battle later, and perhaps a bottle of wine. Kurogane would be in a bad mood because he'd broken his word about making it back for dinner.

Tomoyo stopped him by the door with a little coarse sack. She handed that and a palm-sized jar of ointment to him, then waved to show that he could store his papers in there as well. This would be a lot easier to transport if he were hurrying back to camp. He accepted them gratefully, flashed a genuine smile at her, and wondered if she would still help him if she knew how bad a person he really was.

But she didn't, and he was in a rush to leave, so Fai waved and bowed, and left her standing in the doorway of her colorful, beautiful tent.

* * *

Kurogane frowned. Fai was running late, way late. Already, the wizard had missed dinner—the last meal of the day before they headed to fight at the Moon Castle. The skies were deep red, and the soldiers of Yasha's army were starting to gather the supplies needed for the battle.

He gave up pacing in their tent and headed for the road to the city. Had something happened to Fai while he wasn't there? He knew the wizard had more sense than to let himself be caught in some petty fight, but. The memories from the storm were still painfully fresh in his mind. He couldn't stop seeing how the blond had been forced against a tree, resigned to being vulnerable because he refused to stand up for himself.

He wandered close to the forest, looked up the dirt road, and patrolled the camp once. No sign of Fai. If he found out that someone had hurt that idiot...

Kurogane dismissed the thought, returned to the road and waited, arms folded across his chest. He'd had his fill of waiting. Fai himself required patience, with his lies and games and running. He decided to clear his mind by doing a set of kata—there was hardly anyone on this side of the camp, after all.

It was a quarter hour before assembly when he saw the distant figure round a bend through the trees. Kurogane swore and sheathed his sword, strode up to drag the idiot back to camp.

The weary sag to Fai's frame left him the moment he recognized Kurogane. He was flushed and sweaty, like he'd been jogging along the road back to camp, and he was clutching a bottle and a little sack to himself. Kurogane glowered. "Where have you been?" he snapped. "We're leaving in ten minutes."

Fai looked sheepishly at him, did not protest when Kurogane grabbed his elbow and began to sprint down the road. They wove through the emptier parts of camp, and Kurogane tugged him into their tent so he could relieve himself of his burden. Fai panted, dropped the sack on his cot, and carefully tucked the bottle out of sight behind a cot-leg.

"What's that?" Kurogane pointed at the bottle.

Fai grinned at him, waved dismissively. He reached into his armor, pulled out the copper ingot that Kurogane had given him in the morning. It was hot and a little sweaty, and Kurogane found his gaze snagging on the dark smears at the corners of Fai's mouth.

"Did you eat?" he asked, mimicked chewing even as he reached up to swipe at the sticky stain.

Fai blinked, pretended to chew, and nodded. His smile was on the edge of blissful; he rubbed his stomach. Kurogane snorted.

"Whatever. We need to move."

He didn't miss the censuring look from more than one officer when they came hurrying up; it did not help that Fai still looked thoroughly worn out. Kurogane forced his thoughts to stay neutral. It wasn't like they were having a tryst of some sort, damn it.

Despite his fatigue, Fai fought well during the battle, although he did not press his back to Kurogane's like he sometimes did. Kurogane did not pay that any mind. By the time the fight was over, Fai was all but leaning into his arm, his eyelids drooping.

"Oi." Kurogane shook him. "Don't fall asleep on me now."

Fai's only response was a tired wave.

One of the benefits of being an officer was the separate bathing area he was allowed to use—Kurogane was even more grateful for it when he dragged Fai there after they arrived at the campgrounds, out of sight of the rest of the soldiers. Fai had rummaged through the sack he'd brought back with him, and although Kurogane was itching to devour the next volume of his maganyan (turned out that Fai wasn't entirely useless when it came to shopping), he was just as curious about the roll of bandages Fai had added to his pile of sleeping clothes.

The tension in Fai's shoulders seeped out when he saw that only Touya and Yukito were in the bathing tent this time. (Not all the officers appreciated his presence—he was still only a soldier, and a foreigner to boot.) Kurogane led the way into the tent, drew a bucket of water from the well and headed to the opposite corner, where they would have some semblance of privacy.

Fai's gaze was lowered when he joined Kurogane with his own bucket. His lips were pressed together, and had Kurogane not known better, he'd have thought Fai was self-conscious. He'd begun to pour water over his head when Fai stripped to the innermost layers of his armor.

He pulled his shirt off—there were bandages wrapped around his chest. Kurogane swore.

"What the hell happened to you?" he muttered, standing up, water dribbling down his body. Fai blinked rapidly at him, offered a tentative smile. Kurogane ignored it, grabbed the man by his arm, turned him around.

The bandages against Fai's back were speckled with blood.

He clenched his jaw. "Who did this to you?"

The look on Fai's face turned from bewilderment to anxiety; he waved his hands and tried to smile, patted his own back to show that he was fine.

"Then why?"

When Kurogane showed no signs of backing away, Fai looked back at the ground, fiddled with the edges of his bandages. He glanced once at Kurogane, bit his lip, and began to undo the bindings.

There was inky black on Fai's shoulder blades—a tattoo, Kurogane quickly realized. He watched in dumbfounded silence as the bandages fell away, spotted with red and black.

The tattoo was nothing like what he'd expect of Fai. It was bold, thick lines with sharp corners and swooping strokes, a contrast to the blond's lean figure and pale skin. It was powerful, elegant—a majestic bird with its wings folded in front of itself. The tattoo spanned his back and did not touch his arms.

Kurogane was reminded of the phoenix that had been Fai's kudan back in Hanshin. It suited him, he realized belatedly, Fai's flightiness, his power as a wizard, the grace with which he moved. He wanted to touch the masterpiece. His fingers twitched, yet he knew that Fai would not want him to—for one, the skin beneath and around the ink was still red and tender.

Fai turned his back away from Kurogane. He had seen the tattoo for all of half a minute, maybe, but it wasn't enough. He hadn't had enough of staring when Fai sat down and began to pour water onto his head, pointedly avoiding Kurogane's eyes.

The bath was quick and awkward; Fai clearly wanted to be away from here. He dashed soap across his limbs, washed his back gingerly. Then, he pressed his rough towel slowly against the tattoo, and was opening a jar when Kurogane touched him lightly on the arm, still wet from his own bath.

 _Why?_  was the question in Fai's eyes when he took the jar from Fai's hand. Kurogane shrugged, dipped his finger into cool ointment. He brushed it quickly over the tattoo in a thin layer, quicker and more evenly than Fai would have been able to do himself, and when that was done, wrapped fresh bandages lightly around the other's back.

They walked back to their tent in silence (Touya and Yukito had left by that point). Kurogane tied the tent flaps shut, turned to the wizard, who was still not looking at him.

"It suits you," he said.

Fai paused in touching his shoulder, glanced up. Kurogane shrugged to show he didn't care. He piled his armor up neatly on one of the tables and sat cross-legged in his cot, placed Souhi across his lap to perform his nightly cleaning ritual.

While he rubbed an oil-dampened rag over the sword, Fai emptied the contents of the coarse sack onto his bed. There was only a stack of blank paper, with the exception of one sheet that had something drawn on it. It was this piece that Fai drew out and carefully set in front of Kurogane.

"Tomoyo," he whispered.

Kurogane very nearly sliced his finger off. "What?" he yelped.

Fai repeated the name, then pointed at his back. He was willingly looking at Kurogane this time, and there was honesty in his eyes.

"You saw Tomoyo?" he spluttered. In all the worlds they'd traveled to so far, there had been certain people they saw over and over again, like Touya, Yukito and Shougo. He thought he'd seen Tomoyo once, in Hanshin, but between then and now, he hadn't so much as heard her name.

Fai nodded, picked up the drawing stick, crawling over to Kurogane's cot. He leaned over the edge, drew Big Kitty on the dirt floor looking away, and a girl with dark hair painting on his back.

Tomoyo had done the inking on Fai's back.

He couldn't quite believe it, instead turning to look at the sheet that Fai had wanted to show him a minute ago. It was a drawing of two solemn faces—Fai and Tomoyo.

"Tomoyo," Fai whispered again, pointed at the sheet, and mimicked painting.

She was an artist in this world, Kurogane realized. He set his polishing rag down, wiped his hand on his clothes, and carefully picked up the drawings. A sudden pang of disappointment welled in his stomach—why had he not been there when Fai found her? It wasn't the same person. He knew this by now, and yet... He wanted to talk to someone who shared Tomoyo's soul, if only to see if she was like the one who had sent him away.

A sudden low  _pop_  drew him out of his thoughts. Kurogane looked up.

Fai had the bottle from before in one hand, and a cork in the other. He sniffed at its mouth, wiped it clean with a thumb and brought it to his lips. Kurogane watched the bob of his Adam's apple, the glisten of his lips when he pulled the bottle away. Fai whispered something; it was obvious from his half-lidded eyes and almost-smile that it wasn't the best booze they'd had, but it was good enough.

The blond handed the bottle over; Kurogane took a swig from it, felt it burn down his throat.

Alcohol wasn't readily available in the camp. Mostly, it was brought back from the city by the soldiers who had visited, and Kurogane had been offered a bottle when he'd first become an officer. (Fai had been sniffing at his clothes after, pouting when he didn't get any.)

Drinking alone with Fai was different. During the times they drank, in the different worlds, the wizard let his guard down a little when there was booze to be had. Kurogane relaxed a little, too. Despite how Fai lied and hid, he was a good ally to have.

Kurogane wasn't surprised to realize that he trusted Fai.

Fai took the bottle back, sipped from it and closed his eyes again, a slow smile spreading on his lips. They passed the bottle back and forth in silence, and after a while, Kurogane said, "We're visiting Tomoyo together the next time."

The wizard cocked his head, smiled blandly. Kurogane shrugged. He would get his intentions across if they stayed long enough to visit the city again.

* * *

Big Doggy, being an adult, could control his shapeshifting relatively well. He could change at will into a human male (albeit naked), and back again into a dog to suit his needs. His charges, Little Doggy and Little Kitty, however, weren't as fortunate with their circumstances. The slightest sneeze would turn Little Doggy into a human boy, bewildered and clueless about what to do next. Little Kitty shifted when she received a scare, such as when deafening thunder cracked right outside their home. She mewed pitiably, and Kurogane saw little choice but to nudge her towards his mistress, who took the poor girl in and clothed her in the sweetest dresses until she returned to being a cat.

(Kurogane had jabbed his finger at that page and spluttered indignantly; Fai merely smiled, eyebrows raised, and patted his head.)

* * *

It wasn't long after he received the phoenix on his back that Fai had the misfortune of being cornered by Crooked Nose and his friends. He had been returning from the nightly battle alone (Kurogane was held up in Yasha's office with the rest of the generals and officers), intending to return to his tent when the four men surrounded him, flickering light from orange campfires throwing ominous shadows across their faces.

There weren't as many soldiers on this side of the camp—most were gathered either around the campfires or in the bathing tents, and as Fai glanced around, he realized that there weren't any witnesses to watch the entire incident. If anyone came running, it would only be when Crooked Nose or his friends shouted for help. The odds were still stacked against him, even now, even with the tattoo on his back.

Men were singing in the background, along to the cheerful tunes of fiddles, and as the four soldiers closed in on him, with cruel smiles on their faces and Crooked Nose issuing a threat that Fai didn't understand, he whirled around on his feet, studying his opponents.

He'd played this scene out in his mind with different situations, on different nights when he couldn't sleep. There were so many options he could choose from. Not so many with himself coming out unscathed, with no consequences awaiting him. One of his best choices would be to lead them toward the officers' tent—but what use would that be, if all it did was send Kurogane into another fit?

He smiled at them, sidestepped the first man who came too close, tripped him with a casual foot.

Fai had decided that he would stand up for himself. The prickle of the healing tattoo was a nagging reminder that he was Ashura's protégé, that he couldn't let his benefactor's teachings go to waste. Ashura would be disappointed if he were to let these louts gain the upper hand over him, even if Fai thought he deserved it. Ashura didn't... and so Fai had to be brave. For Ashura's sake. And perhaps Kurogane's.

With the opening that the first man had left, Fai skipped away from the other three, who wore similar frowns now that he'd snatched the upper hand so quickly. The fourth man picked himself up too late—Fai was now outside their circle, aware of them and his surroundings, and he would not be caught again.

He could be ruthless and bloodthirsty when the urge struck him. It was a side of himself he hated and would rather never see, because he was so damn good at taking people down. Ashura had called him a secret weapon with some fondness, had trained him in the different ways to kill with different weapons, with his bare hands. He knew the thrill of killing and winning, would rather not see himself sink to that, because it made him a different person, made him just a little crazed... and that was not who Fai was. He did not see killing as a sport.

So he kept his smile plastered on his face, danced out of the way of grabbing hands and ugly sneers.

He drew his dagger from his side, kept it hidden, and as the men around him threatened and entertained themselves with situations that wouldn't come to pass, Fai slipped through their defenses (effortlessly—they possessed so little skill), wove himself into their midst and right in front of Crooked Nose.

The man's eyes grew wide when Fai's dagger flashed beneath his chin. Fai stepped behind him, scrapped the knife edge along his throat, taking hairs off but not pressing hard enough to leave a laceration. Crooked Nose smelled sweaty and acrid, like rotting, rancid fat, and Fai held his breath, knocked the man unconscious with a swift blow to his neck.

Crooked Nose's friends panicked at that; Fai smiled thinly, caught up with those who tried to escape and incapacitated them in much the same way.

By the end of it, not a drop of blood had been spilled, no bruises were left, and he was still standing, triumphant, unhurt, safe.

He quieted the roaring in his chest, made sure his dagger was tucked away, and stepped lightly over the men, disappearing into the shadows so no one could accuse him of the assault.

The recklessness in his veins was still pounding hot when Kurogane returned to the tent. Fai had not lit the lamps; he had stripped away the outer layers of his armor, however, and Kurogane's gaze blazed right through him when he stepped up, tied the tent flaps shut, and proceeded to drag the other down into a hot, hungry kiss.

It was a biting kiss, wet, desperate, needing to conquer like how he couldn't with the other soldiers. Kurogane let him pull them both down onto the dusty dirt floor, let him undo his armor with an ease that Fai chose to ignore. Neither questioned his willingness to grind himself nakedly into Kurogane's lap, stiff length wedged into the cleft of his ass. His nails raked through the other's hair, across his shoulders, and as he hauled the larger man up onto his knees and shifted so he was snug behind him, erection pressing firm against tight balls, Kurogane hissed, shoved his hips closer.

This was a lot more intimate than either of them had allowed before. Fai didn't push for more, instead reaching forward for Kurogane and moaning when the other curled hot fingers around him. They squeezed and slid, rutted greedily together, gasping and grunting until one spilled, followed by the other.

They dressed lightly in the dark. Fai ground the wet stains into the dirt floor with his heel; they gathered their sleeping clothes, made their way to the bathing area in silence, only exchanging glances when their breathing had slowed.

There were a couple of officers in the bathing tent; they undressed and washed in silence, waiting until the last man left. Once they were alone, Fai emptied a bucket of water on Kurogane's head. Kurogane spluttered, growled a threat and chased him around in the tent, feet thumping on wooden floor boards, and the tension between them finally broke into something lighter.

* * *

"Some of the officers are saying that you shouldn't be allowed in their bathing tent," Kurogane said late one night, while they were getting ready to sleep. It was quiet out; there were only stragglers left around, and most of the campfires had already been banked. In their tent, the single oil lamp was still burning—they kept it on for now in case there was a need to communicate through drawings on the floor.

Fai cocked his head.

Kurogane sighed, grabbed the drawing stick that was propped between the edges of their cots, and shuffled to the side of his bed where the lamplight shone brightest on the dirt floor. Fai clambered on next to him. Now that he'd caught the other's attention, Kurogane drew the circle that represented Yasha, the few that represented the officers, and the numerous circles that was the rest of the army. Next, he drew tents - one for the officers and two for the army, and mimicked washing his hair.

"They say—" He jabbed at the officers, curved his hand into a pincer that opened and closed to convey speech. "That you aren't an officer. So you should bathe with the rest." Kurogane pointed between Fai and the various tents and levels of hierarchy. Fai nodded, shrugged. Kurogane shook his head. He pointed at himself, then at Fai, and the officers' tent. "No. I think you're better off in the other tent."

The wizard shrugged again, nonchalant.

Kurogane breathed out. Even if Fai didn't care what happened to himself, he did. He pointed between Fai and the tier of officers. "You should become an officer. Then you'll get rights to this tent, and the bathing area, and more pay. If you don't, they'll have the right to displace you from this tent."

It took some minutes of explaining that to Fai through another series of gestures. By the end of it, the blond had pursed his lips thoughtfully, dark eyes narrowed. Fai took the drawing stick from him, sketched himself leading soldiers, and lifted an eyebrow.

Personally, Kurogane had the impression that the wizard was more than capable of leading an army—Fai was clever, and he understood people. At this point, he was merely lacking the tools and incentive to try for the position. A place would open up soon, Kurogane knew. The officers had been talking about yet another new strategy, and it was even more risky than before.

He drew Yukito leading his own troops. The officer hardly said much, unlike Touya, yet he was an effective leader in his own right. He led by arm signals instead of raising his voice, and he was good at what he did. Fai could make a case study of Yukito. At the worst, he could join forces with Kurogane, and they would be able to lead their platoons together.

Not all the soldiers would readily accept this, of course. Kurogane's attention had been drawn to Crooked Nose, who had accused Fai of attacking him and his friends not two days ago. There had been no witnesses to back up that accusation, and Fai had merely shrugged and smiled when asked. (Kurogane suspected that this had something to do with the way Fai all but jumped his bones the other night, but he didn't feel like bringing it up with the wizard. Fai would just deny everything like he always did.)

They slept on that proposition while Fai took his time to arrive at a decision. In the meantime, Kurogane began to dream.

* * *

The dreams were fairly innocuous at first.

He had been reading his maganyan before bed—in this volume, the ninja had had to escape from a burning tent that was collapsing all around him. Kurogane had spent all but a few moments glancing through the panels before moving on, but somehow,  _somehow_ , the images had lingered in his mind, like a scab that refused to heal because he kept picking at it.

So he dreamed of fire, in stone hearths back in Shirasagi, where the kitchen staff of the palace had boiled broths and cooked rice, fanning the woodsmoke flames so they could feed the great numbers of staff in the castle. He dreamed of cookfires three nights in a row, several lit all at once while Tomoyo smiled at her servants. Then, he dreamed of the little pinewood fires back in Suwa, when his parents would visit their kitchen, and Kurogane would shout what he'd wanted for dinner. His mother would lay a gentle hand on his head, tell him to be patient, and sometimes, fresh river fish would appear on their dining table, sliced to raw, rectangular perfection.

Some nights, he dreamed about fighting in Yasha's army. He dreamed about fighting alongside Fai, and sometimes he dreamed he was protecting the children. Sometimes, Fai would appear on the opposite side of the battlefield, and Kurogane would fight him on even footing, before he forcefully woke himself from the dream. Some nights, he dreamed of the ring of fire that the officers had been planning but had not enough supplies yet to implement. He dreamed that the fire burned sky-high, and it wasn't in his power to stop it.

Some nights, Kurogane did not dream, and he was glad not to have the reminder of fire.

* * *

The next day off took forever in arriving. Kurogane kept away from the other officers on the day itself—he had learned the hard way not to make himself appear idle, and tapped his foot while Fai wriggled around in bed, rubbing his eyes and wrapping his arms around both their pillows.

"I'm leaving you behind if you're not getting up," he'd threatened, shook his new ingots in his coin pouch (payday was the day before; Fai had taken one look at the difference in their pay and nodded decisively).

The wizard whined; Kurogane scoffed. When Fai remained lying on his stomach, one pillow under his head and another over, Kurogane stepped forward, jerked his pillow away and whacked Fai lightly on the head with it.

Fai yelped, shot him a baleful look. Kurogane looked pointedly at the exit of the tent. "I want to see the Tomoyo you met, idiot."

By the time they were on their way to the city, the sun was higher than Kurogane wanted it to be. He muttered under his breath, issued threats that Fai didn't understand. (Fai did understand when he drew his finger across his throat, though, and when he held up a threatening fist. It took a combination of the two to get the slacker out of bed.)

They followed the long road through the forest, with its trampled dirt ground and golden sunlight beaming through the canopy, passing soldiers with their larger strides. On occasion, Fai smiled and waved, and Kurogane nodded at those he recognized. The forest itself brimmed with life, and the city of Yama was much the same when they finally stepped across its boundaries.

The marketplace bustled with shoppers; bodies pressed, people bargained, melodious twittering issued from songbirds trapped in large, gilded cages, and more than one peddler looked their way when they separated themselves from the rest of the (admittedly shorter) soldiers. Kurogane was glad to be rid of all that noise—there were too many threats in crowded places like this.

Fai led the way to the tattoo artist. The residential tents in the city were mostly a shade of ivory, with many of the same tents populating each district. Kurogane raised an eyebrow when they stepped into an alley with splashes of color all over the tents, and at the slender black lines on the tent flaps that Fai stopped in front of. Fai tapped lightly on the entrance with his fingertips.

When the tent flaps parted, and when he met familiar, dark eyes that looked right into him, Kurogane couldn't help but sink onto one knee, bowing his head with respect. "Tomoyo."

She laughed, a soft, light tinkle, and rested a small hand on his shoulder. "I am not your Tomoyo, Kurogane. Don't kneel in my honor."

He jerked his head up in surprise; she beckoned them in.

"Do come in! I'd hate to leave my guests standing in the doorway," she said.

Fai smiled at him, patted him on the head, and Kurogane tried not to snap at the idiot while he was in the presence of his princess—or rather, one who shared his princess's soul.

He followed the blond into the tent, cast his eyes about Tomoyo's home. There weren't many spots an intruder could hide in the sitting area, though he wasn't sure about the rest of the tent; the partitions shielded the other rooms from his sight. Instead, Kurogane reached out with his senses, relaxed some when he decided that there wasn't anyone else in or close to Tomoyo's home.

"I was told that you were very suspicious," Tomoyo said when she stepped out from one of the other rooms with an earthen teapot and three teacups. Fai followed behind her with a plate of what looked like red bean cakes; he set them down on a low wooden table next to the tray of tea.

"Who told you that?" he asked, darting an annoyed glance at Fai.

"Not your friend here." Tomoyo laughed, waved towards the carved wooden chairs next to the table, with rich fabrics sewn into their seats. "Your Tomoyo told me. Do have a seat."

Fai was content to pour out steaming tea. Kurogane focused his attention on Tomoyo, took in the dark robes she had dressed herself in, printed with intricate flowers. "Are you a dreamseer as well?"

She nodded, laid her hand on Fai's arm when he set the teapot down. "Thank you."

Fai returned her smile; there was a softness about his eyes when he looked at her, that reminded Kurogane of when the wizard was around the children. Tomoyo waved towards the sweet cakes; Fai brightened, took one between his long fingers.

An odd sense of jealousy rang within his bones. He should have been the one more familiar with Tomoyo, not Fai. That they could communicate without spoken words showed a great deal of familiarity. (Then again, Fai had probably spent a long while in this place when he'd got that tattoo of his.)

"I met your Tomoyo in my dreams," Tomoyo said, glancing towards a wall of the tent that was covered in various paintings.

Kurogane followed her gaze, blinked when he saw a portrait of himself on the wall. What sent a jolt of recognition through him was the portrait of Sakura in the next piece. He turned back to Tomoyo, questions burning on his tongue. "The princess—"

"Sakura, yes. I dreamed of her." Tomoyo smiled when Fai looked at her. "Your friend here had the same concerns. I haven't seen or heard of such a person here, however."

The questions fizzled out of him. It was two months now, and there hadn't been any sign of the children. Would they ever show up, or had they moved on to the next world without himself and Fai?

"What did she say to you? The other Tomoyo?"

"She said that her most loyal warrior might visit. She also said to look out for you, if we happen to meet." Tomoyo took a sip from her cup of tea, pushed his untouched cup towards him.

"I can look out for myself," he said, indignant, chest puffed and ready to argue. "She knows that."

Tomoyo laughed again, reached forward to pat his knee. "We all know that, Kurogane. Do have some of the cake—I think you might find that familiar."

"Tomoyo told you that as well?" He frowned, glanced at the remaining slices of dessert. Fai had helped himself; it seemed that he'd left two thirds the original pile for Kurogane and Tomoyo.

The Tomoyo of Yama nudged the plate towards him. "I saw the food of Nihon in my dream. Your friend seems especially fond of it."

As far as Kurogane was concerned, the things Fai liked weren't proper food—only desserts and confectionery that contained far too much sugar. The wizard was holding one delicately between his fingers at the moment, and smiling blandly at Kurogane. "I'm no—"

Thick, heavy cake was shoved past his lips in the next moment, and Kurogane froze, closed his mouth, chewed. The sweetness wasn't overwhelming; the cake was nutty, smooth, with the occasional whole bean in it. Fai smiled at him, his face inches away. He said something in that lilting language of his.

Tomoyo giggled, and Kurogane broke out of his surprise. "You!" he roared, leaping to his feet. Fai skipped backwards, mischief glittering in his eyes. "That chocolate cake was enough, damn you!"

He drew his sword and lunged at Fai, mindful of where he swung the gleaming blade because this was still Tomoyo's home, and he'd be damned if he broke any of her things. (He didn't need her giving his Tomoyo more reason to keep him away.) Fai dodged every one of his attacks—it was probably because he knew Fai would avoid them, that he could attack the idiot with such abandon.

"Kurogane," Tomoyo said after a minute.

He obeyed immediately, sheathed his sword, and was about to snap that the idiot deserved it when he remembered that she wasn't the Tomoyo he was used to. Instead, Kurogane frowned and returned to his seat, sat quietly in it. "I can't let him get away with it."

Fai had dropped back into his own chair, lounging in it like a damn cat for all the armor he was still wearing. He sipped from his teacup, grinned at Kurogane.

Kurogane did not bother looking at him. He gulped some tea to wash the taste of the cake down, realized that the slight tartness of the drink complemented the mild sweetness of the cake. It wasn't actually that bad.

In the lull of activity, Tomoyo had turned to Fai, pointing at him and patting her shoulder with a smile. Fai smiled quizzically. He turned his back to her, however, and she leaned over, tugging at his armor. The wizard seemed to understand what she wanted then, slowly peeling the layers of his clothes off to expose his bandaged tattoo.

Through the days of bathing together, Kurogane had watched as the tattoo scabbed and slowly healed. He'd brushed ointment on it in the dimness of the bathing tent—never did more than that—and now, looking at the piece in the brighter light of Tomoyo's home, the way it rippled with every flex of lean muscle, he wanted to touch it, to feel smooth skin beneath his palm, follow the dip of that spine.

There were many things he wanted to do to that tattoo, because it was crafted by Tomoyo's hand and thus special, and because it belonged to Fai, and it fitted him like it was always meant to be there.

Tomoyo was tracing light fingers along the tattoo, inspecting its recovery, so it caught Kurogane by surprise when she turned slightly and looked him in the eye.

The curve of her lips was knowing; she returned to her scrutiny of her work, patted Fai on the shoulder.

All Kurogane could really think about was how she knew, like how the damn white creature had attempted hugs when he couldn't even describe the tight feeling in his chest when he looked at Fai.

"What else did Tomoyo tell you?" he asked instead.

The Tomoyo of Yama slid him a soft smile. "I can't tell you everything, Kurogane. Where's the fun in that?"

Then she chuckled, and she sounded exactly like the Princess of Nihon Kurogane had grown up with. It was familiar and nostalgic all at once. It felt like home, with warm tea and Tomoyo's kind face and the knowledge that he was in a position to keep her safe. Yet it wasn't, because Fai was looking at him and grinning, waving another slice of sweet cake between his too-long fingers, because there were plush rugs beneath their feet and this wasn't the high-ceilinged hall of Tomoyo's court, nor was there the quiet, mahogany-floored stillness of her private rooms.

It would be very easy to think of this as a too-real dream, except he knew it wasn't one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've come to the realization that 'ink, fire and fiddle' might be my best work yet? :P Currently writing the last chapter (chapter 10)! Hope you guys enjoyed this one ;)


	5. Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at the halfway mark! 5 out of 10 chapters. :)

 

"I'm the sort of person you hate most," Fai whispered, one hand dangling off his cot to trace the mouth of a wine bottle. "You should leave me with the rest of the soldiers, Kuro-sir. Let me deal with the consequences of my actions."

Kurogane stared at him across the yawning inches between their cots, dark eyes level for how much they'd drunk. They'd been plied with so much tea in Tomoyo's home that Kurogane had blown an entire iron ingot on wine. He'd done the buying this time—he'd got copious amounts of wine for a decent price, and wine of good quality, at that. Fai didn't mind helping to carry some of that back to their tent.

They'd stashed some bottles for consumption through the rest of the two weeks before the next day off, and had emptied at least two bottles each tonight, heat swimming comfortably in their bellies. So, Fai felt a little loose-lipped and it was fine, since Kurogane didn't understand a word of what he said.

"At some point, I will have to betray you, you know. I'm under orders. None of you are safe—my master has plans for all of you. How do you like being the witch's pawn, Kuro-lief? She's pretty lenient with you, isn't she? Will she make you kill me too?"

He flopped onto his back, sighing with relief. It hadn't been easy sleeping with the tattoo scabbing—he'd had to weigh his hands down under his pillow to keep from scratching. Funny how one didn't appreciate a healthy body until one was deprived of the convenience of, say, skin that didn't itch. Or an ankle that wasn't sprained. Already, he had begun to take his healed ankle for granted.

"Of course, I'll kill you if I have to." Fai laughed; it was one without humor. "So don't put yourself in my path, Kuro-pai. It would be a pity to lose you. Or maybe you can kill me, and... and I'll finally be free of all this."

Would Kurogane really kill him? Fai wasn't sure. Death by those hands would be quick, though. More painless than an eternity of dead bodies and empty eyes.

* * *

Wagons of kerosene and some newly-invented explosives had pulled into the camp the day before. Yasha had cautioned them against using supplies like that too recklessly, so the officers and generals had been discussing various ways of implementing their new plans.

All of which involved fire.

The plans themselves were fine. A little weak, in Kurogane's opinion, since Yasha's army didn't have an advantage in the terrain or extra time for setting up before the battle began. All the same, he visualized the explosions and soldier movements to decide if the officers' plans were advantageous, and suggested changes if they weren't.

The images followed him into sleep.

He dreamed about woodsmoke fires in the Shirasagi kitchens raging into unstoppable bonfires. He dreamed about lit arrows tearing through rice paper walls, embedding themselves into worn wooden floors and fire razing through sturdy buildings. He dreamed about a village ablaze, demons rearing their ugly heads, and himself pattering down flame-lined walkways to Kaa-san's prayer room, to find a massive sword yanking out of her chest, and blood splashed around her, far more than he could stem the flow of.

He dreamed about blood on his hands, dragging Kaa-san's lifeless body with him while blood dripped, dripped, dripped from the wound in her chest, and flames licking sky-high all around them, his skin prickling and drying and peeling, because the air around him scorched and he couldn't breathe—

Kurogane snapped awake with a harsh gasp, sweat trickling down his temples, fingers clenched bruisingly tight into his hair. Across the gap between their cots, Fai was awake in the dark tent, watching him with dull eyes and lips pressed into a thin line. He looked away when Kurogane met his gaze.

Kurogane focused on relaxing his grip and calming his breathing. He'd had nightmares before. He knew how to recover from them, knew to follow the breathing exercises Tomoyo had taught him. He began the first set, then repeated it, and was halfway into the second set when there came a low, familiar tune from the next cot.

It was off-key in some parts, different from the way he remembered it, but the melody was largely the same when Fai hummed the lullaby that stirred pages deep in his memory.

_On this dark night when I am all alone, the stars shine bright and I hold my heart and pray  
That an angel comes from the distant lands, hold my hand and take me home_

Kurogane froze. It was easy to, since he wasn't moving, though he'd stopped breathing entirely. "How," he rasped, "how did you know that?"

Fai paused in the middle of the chorus, turned his head back around to look at him. "Tomoyo," he whispered.

There was a lump in his throat that was difficult to swallow past. Kurogane nodded stiffly, shifted around in his cot so he didn't have to keep looking at Fai.

How— Why had Tomoyo taught Fai that? When? It had to be when he got the tattoo, didn't it. When Kurogane didn't make to move again, the notes of the lullaby picked up, soothing in the way nothing from Fai should be. He didn't know if he wanted to be angry at Tomoyo. This was part of Kurogane's history, part of Tomoyo's, not the blond idiot who was from an entirely different world.

_When the birds are singing, when the skies are blue  
When you take my hand, and all I know is you_

The song had shifted to another just as familiar. Kurogane began to wonder how much in common his Tomoyo shared with the one here, and whether she could explain why his Tomoyo had sent him away. He wanted to know if she was sorry about her decision. It had always been a sore subject with him, how she had rid of him so easily, even if he now had a vested interest in this journey and the bitterness had mostly mellowed out.

Calming down, he turned back to look at Fai. The wizard was still humming, so Kurogane said, "hey. I'm fine. You can stop."

He didn't doubt that Fai had done that for him. It wasn't something he needed—he could deal with nightmares by himself. Fai had nightmares of his own, and Kurogane watched him shudder some nights, uncertain if he should break him out of his dreams. Fai didn't like to be caught vulnerable. Neither of them did.

The humming stopped eventually, leaving Kurogane to wonder if he should do something in kind for the wizard the next time something like that occurred.

* * *

Big Doggy's mistress had accumulated a substantial collection of clothes from the different times he, Little Doggy and Little Kitty shifted into their human forms. It was to Big Doggy's horror one day, when they were all in human form, that she clothed them all in nice clothes and pushed them out of the door, instructing Big Doggy to take Little Doggy and Little Kitty out on a walk.

He was a good dog, so he obeyed her instructions. The three of them walked slowly to the park, where there were a number of people and a number of accompanying pets. None of them could speak the human tongue, however, so they walked together in silence, one child on either side of Big Doggy.

That was when a big black cat walked up to Big Doggy, wound itself around his legs and looked up, large eyes bored and piercing. This was no baby animal, Big Doggy knew, but Little Kitty had already knelt down by the cat and gathered it into her arms. She looked up at Big Doggy with a doe-eyed, pleading expression that he couldn't say no to.

And so Big Kitty followed them home.

(Kurogane scowled and kicked the comic back into the dirt. Fai only grinned all the brighter at him.)

* * *

On this night, Kurogane knew, they would be losing more men. The plans had been finalized; the oil and explosives were loaded onto the wagon they'd bring with them to the Moon Castle, and men had been picked out and instructed on where to go, when to weave through the fighting and play their parts. It was a risky operation.

Fai had been volunteered to carry out one of the more dangerous tasks—to trail oil towards the enemy front, plant an explosive, and have someone else light the trail while he ran back.

Kurogane had objected to this plan. Even if he knew the idiot was probably capable of pulling this off, even if the votes had been nine to three. Fai was still an outsider—it was a sentiment that lingered amongst the soldiers, even if he had been slowly fitting in with his ranks. That he was quick and nimble like a cat only served to bolster their confidence that he could attempt the task and succeed.

There hadn't been any way out of that, so Kurogane turned their opinions in his favor: if Fai were to succeed, then consideration should be given to promote him to an officer. He'd received a better response to that.

Even so, he couldn't help but keep a wary eye out for the wizard when they arrived on the battlefield.

The blond had been given a can of kerosene and a bundle of explosives. He was to wind his way through flat ground, laying out an oil trail so someone from the army could light it from where the rest of the soldiers were. The trail would burn and reach the explosive, which would be placed as close to Ashura's men as possible.

On paper, it had sounded simple as hell.

On the battlefield, not so much. Kurogane had given his soldiers specific instructions on what they should do. With some confidence that they would remember and follow his orders, he stood by Fai, who only had a large shield for defense.

When Yasha raised the flag for them to commence the fight, Fai sent him a sideways glance. They began to sprint, two in a group of eight other oil-trailer pairs. Kurogane felt the weight of the soldiers' gazes on his back as he ran by Fai's unguarded side, cutting arrows out of the air. Some of Ashura's soldiers had already run forward; others hesitated—the strategy was new, they hadn't seen it before—and Kurogane took these soldiers down first, clearing a path on flat ground for Fai to follow.

The air was heavy with anticipation, trembling with the roar of Ashura's army and dusty with kicked-up dirt. Kurogane trusted Fai to lay a continuous line of oil on the ground while he ran ahead. It took little time to cross the distance between the armies. He was all but fighting in the thick of Ashura's red-clad soldiers when Fai gasped, "Kuro—"

He swung his sword at the nearest men to throw them backward, glanced at the front lines of Yasha's army. And there, on the three-quarter mark of the oil trail, a growing line of bright orange was searing its way towards them, towards where Fai had only just set the bundle of explosives down, large metal shield towering over his crouched frame. Someone had set the oil trail alight before they'd given the signal.

Kurogane swore, threw himself away from his enemies. "Come on!"

Fai was already skipping backwards, trailing his clunky shield along with him on the other side of the kerosene line as Kurogane leaped from rock to large rock. The starter fire devoured the kerosene trail, like a demon hell-bent on destroying and leaving nothing behind but black smoke.

They had not yet tested those explosives. The officers had been reluctant to reveal the new weapon on the battlefield, and none of them wanted to detonate one in the forest to find out its exact blast range in case it set off a wildfire. All they had to go on were the claims from the weapons master from the city.

There were five, maybe seven seconds before the licking flames hit the explosives. For an instant, there was a stillness in the air.

Then the explosives thundered open in a series of flashing white lights and cracking gunfire like he'd heard in Jade Country. The shock wave threw him back, shook the ground, and he lost sight of Fai in the sudden rapid bloom of smoke and fire. He wasn't sure how many of Ashura's soldiers went down in that explosion, only that there were little patches of fire all around him, burning what barren ground there was.

Kurogane regained his footing, saw the rest of Ashura's soldiers try to retreat a split second before seven other consecutive blasts rang out on the battlefield, each sending out bursts of fire and light and smoke. Bits of burning earth landed around him, orange flame flickering, black smoke billowing, and for a heartbeat, he saw the image of an orange blaze from another time, plumes of dark smoke rising into the sky.

He couldn't lose someone else to that.

Where was Fai?

He ran through burning earth, towards where he'd last seen Fai, correcting the direction in case Fai had dashed towards Yasha's army.

The wind blew in his direction. Smoke burnt arid in his lungs; Kurogane coughed, his eyes watered as he swept his gaze across the battlefield, trying to find a flash of blond in the midst of all the red rock and black smoke.

"Idiot," he shouted, ducking to avoid inhaling wispy smoke, but some had got into his lungs and he was coughing, searching the ground for—

There, twenty paces away, there was someone in leathers and steel, lying on the ground. He hadn't got close enough to see the hair; there was a damn shield over half the body, and Kurogane felt his gut clench.

Not Fai, not when he'd almost died in Outo and Kurogane hadn't been able to get to him in time.

Not that stupid grinning idiot, broken and bloody and lifeless with empty eyes—

There was another explosion, one that flung him sideways. He threw his arms up to shield his face, pausing for a moment before he continued towards the body, glancing around for Fai. But Fai was nowhere to be seen, and a piece of burning dirt landed on the body, slowly burning, burning so the thinner clothes on the body began to catch fire.

Something hot, something sharp cut through his chest, and he was filled with a sudden fury, cold in his chest and hot in his hands. He saw fire, licking flames high in the sky and demons with people half-hanging out of their mouths, and the sky was black past the smoke. His vision was wet and blurring and Kurogane tightened his fingers around Souhi's grip, needing to kill the worthless people who'd sent Fai to his death.

Dull red rimmed his vision. He couldn't think, only wanted to kill, kill,  _kill_ , until there was nothing left that could hurt people he cared about again.

* * *

Fai stumbled behind a rock. The explosion was still ringing in his ears, and the battlefield was a mess. He had no doubt that the explosive had taken out a number of Ashura's men—but that wasn't what was important. What was important was that someone had set his kerosene trail alight before he or Kurogane were ready, and both of them had had to hurl themselves away to avoid getting caught in the blast. (He had no doubt, either, that the saboteur had been either Crooked Nose or one of his men.)

Aside from all that, he didn't have a weapon. The officers had told him to leave his bow and quiver behind, because they would only get in his way of laying the trail. What they wanted him to do after, no one had told him.

The majority of Yasha's army were further back now, to avoid the blasts, though they were still facing forward with their weapons, ready to take on the rest of Ashura's army that had survived the explosions. How would Ashura attempt to get even? The opposing army was greatly compromised in numbers now, and a wrong move could spell victory for Yasha. Not that Fai had any objection to that, but.

Explosions rang out again, spewing dust and smoke across rock-strewn ground. Fai had to duck his head to avoid breathing in a mouthful of dirt. Shock waves buffeted at him; he glanced around to seek out Kurogane, who had split ways from him since the first explosion. The battlefield was quiet, though the remaining officers raised their flags again, and Yasha's army charged forward in the wake of the blasts.

A roar thundered over the shouts of men. Fai's ears pricked at its familiarity; he looked past the towering rock he was sheltering behind, and found Kurogane in the midst of one of his sweeping attacks, that knocked every soldier around him off his feet. What remained of Ashura's men was now on one side of Kurogane; on the other was Yasha's soldiers. The attack had taken people from both armies down, and as Fai watched on, the ninja did not stop.

One of his attacks sliced through multiple men, bright red and searing. There was another attack, then he turned, raised his sword at Yasha's men.

Fai gaped in horror when Kurogane's blow swept their comrades aside. Yasha's men had begun to shout, drawing Kurogane's attention. He glowered at them, seeming not to care, sword raised once more.

Kurogane's eyes were blazing—they would have been burning crimson if his eyes were still red—and his expression was twisted into a snarl. There wasn't any recognition in his eyes, only anger and pain distilled into endless black, and in that heartbeat, Fai knew that Kurogane would raze the entire battlefield to the ground, friend and foe both.

It sent a thrill down his spine, a jolt of recognition. Kurogane, as he was now, spoke to the part of Fai that he hated, the vicious part of him that craved bloodshed.

He knew he could very well be the only one to stop the warrior before he wreaked any more destruction. There wasn't anyone else in this place who could match either of them, save for perhaps Ashura and Yasha.

Fai scanned the press of soldiers around him, the still-burning bits of ground, and leaped forward, pushing soldiers aside in his haste to reach Kurogane. If they were to stay any longer in this world, Kurogane's slaughter of their people would only turn men against them, and that was far too risky for them both.

He wove through his comrades, light-footed and swift, grabbed a sword from one of their hands.

Kurogane's second attack came. Fai dodged it, and as the beam of energy dissipated, he leaped over the fallen soldiers and made a beeline for Kurogane.

The warrior looked up at him, eyes blank, chest heaving. There was a wide berth around him, now; men were fighting to get away from him, fighting each other, and all Fai cared about was breaking through Kurogane's defenses. He stepped into the empty space—full of bloodied bodies—around the other, feeling a spark of satisfaction when Kurogane's eyes locked onto him.

From there, it was easy enough to turn Kurogane in the direction of Ashura's army—Fai had little concern about turning his back towards them—and stepping forward.

Kurogane launched an attack at him, its name fading around the withering heat of a sword stroke, blazing bright and wavering around the edges. Fai danced away, used the bodies of the fallen as stepping stones. Those of Ashura's army who had not been quick enough were caught in Kurogane's attack. Fai flung himself over the ninja's sword when metal came whistling forward. Heat singed the back of his armor.

How long should he allow Kurogane to go on like this? How would Yasha's army react to them? Would Kurogane even be allowed to keep his position?

This would work to their advantage, Fai decided, if he were to pretend to direct Kurogane's attacks towards Ashura's men, to give others the illusion of him controlling Kurogane.

It was easier thought than done. Kurogane had eyes for him only. Each attack he barely evaded brought more men down, and as Fai swerved and ducked and pushed his speed to his limits—Kurogane was fast, way fast—he feinted an attack, read into Kurogane's moves, slipped behind him.

Kurogane spun to meet him, sword arcing in a silver gleam. Fai parried it with his stolen sword, cursed when Souhi cleaved his weapon in two. He flung himself sideways to avoid the swipe, pulled himself up again in the opening Kurogane left, and grabbed the ninja's wrist (powerful and strong and burning hot), shoving it against his armored chest.

"Kuro-sir!" he hissed, standing up close to the ninja to force their eyes to meet. "Stop this!"

There was no flicker of understanding in empty black eyes. Fai bit a vehement curse off when Kurogane threw him aside. He stumbled backwards, feet catching on limp bodies, and decided on impulse to let himself fall, to see what Kurogane would do next.

He landed hard on blood-streaked armor, breathing raggedly when Kurogane advanced towards him, the point of his sword angled at Fai's face.

Arrows swooped at them suddenly; Kurogane cut them off in midair without looking, and Fai kicked himself backwards, narrowly avoiding a great many unpleasant holes in his skull. They had to get away from the battlefield—this wasn't going to work in either of their favors.

Kurogane was still staring at him when Fai stood slowly, held both his hands out to show they were empty. He was harmless, could prove no threat. Somewhere in the other's sensibilities, it was apparent that Kurogane had retained his honor, because he paused, did not attack.

The air was tight between them, heavy, and a spark of hope flared in Fai when Kurogane blinked, then blinked again.

Fai tried smiling. It wasn't the best plan he had on a battlefield, ever, with the clang of metal and shouts of war and pain ringing around them, and more enemies targeting them besides, but something flickered in Kurogane's eyes then, something alive, and he almost sagged with relief when the raw pain in the other's expression slipped away.

The warrior's eyes snapped to the battle around them then. He clenched his jaw, turned on his feet to intercept a wave of soldiers that had decided to chance an attack now that he wasn't swallowed by an all-consuming rage. Fai snatched a new sword off the ground, and only began to relax when Kurogane turned his back on him, falling into their usual pattern of back-to-back fighting once more.

* * *

The consequences of that battle could have been worse to deal with. Kurogane had realized almost immediately that his strength had diminished—Tomoyo had not been fucking around when she placed that seal on him—and he didn't know which was worse: that he had so easily entered a blind rage and killed, or that it was precisely because he'd thought  _Fai_  had died, that he'd lost control of himself.

He hadn't really acknowledged what Fai was to him. It could hardly be ignored at this point, he knew, though the wizard was no more willing to entertain any discussions of that sort, and it wasn't like things were going to change between them, anyway.

Yasha and his army had been less than pleased with his behavior. There was no ignoring the fact that Kurogane had turned on his fellow soldiers and had taken some of their lives. There was also little doubt that Kurogane, when not in control of his actions, could just as easily become a liability to the army. Yasha's office had been very quiet when the king had asked what was to become of him.

Kurogane himself had volunteered to be put on probation before anyone else could suggest a different solution. He proposed that Fai be promoted to an officer, to lead Kurogane's troops while he was temporarily demoted to a soldier. Fai was the only person in the army, possibly aside from Yasha, who could keep Kurogane under control if it came to that again.

No one disagreed on that point.

It was thus decided that Fai would take possession of the tent they shared, and Fai would be Kurogane's overseeing officer until Yasha determined that Kurogane could hold a position of power once more.

Fai wasn't keen on the idea of Kurogane losing his ranking, he knew, but they'd got the wizard into a better-paying position, and it would probably not be long before Kurogane could return to being an officer again. There was hardly any question, by this point, that they were among the best fighters in Yasha's army. So, Kurogane was fine with all of that. In the meantime, he would train until he regained every bit of his lost strength.

* * *

The crickets were singing outside their tent at full volume again, and Fai tossed in his cot, unable to sleep. It wasn't so much the news that Kurogane had brought back from Yasha's discussion—although he did wonder how he'd get through the meetings with the other officers—as it was what he'd seen on the battlefield earlier tonight.

The memory of Kurogane's lapse in control hung on the edges of his mind, like the incessant buzzing of a fly that couldn't be swatted away. He remembered the promise of violence, the need to kill, the bloodlust burning beneath the other's skin, could still taste it on his tongue. It resonated within him, that hunger. It came to him when he closed his eyes, the desire to end every life—easily, so easily—with his own two hands, and to see it painted so starkly across Kurogane's face...

Kurogane shared that spirit with him, even if he had been taking care not to kill through their entire journey. But tonight, it had consumed him, that desire for violence, the raw power that had surged through him and promised to send blood soaking into the ground.

His heart had not stopped its furious beating. Fai bit his lip, tried to ignore the heat that pooled low in his belly. He strove for blanking out his thoughts.

Kurogane was the sort of person who had killed liberally before. He must have, back in his own world, if he could face down an entire battlefield and think nothing of fear, only the desire to draw blood. Fai had experienced that before. There had been wars on Celes, times when Ashura had sent him out, and he'd fought with magic and weapons both. Magic until he'd forgotten to feel sorry for those he felled, and then it had been weapons, bows and arrows and spears and swords, until he'd been covered with blood and Ashura had laid a hand on his shoulder to tell him that the fight was over.

He knew that hunger, wondered what it would be like to press up close against someone on the verge of losing control, who sought to destroy with his hands. He wondered how a fight between them would go, violent grins and grappling hands and bodies pressing and fighting and sliding. Would Kurogane sink his teeth into his shoulder, would he smile when Fai pressed a knife to his throat?

Maybe the tables would turn and Kurogane would straddle him, and they would still be fighting—biting?—and the warrior wouldn't be afraid of him, not at all.

Fai felt his breath snag in his throat, felt the insistent pressure at his groin. Shit.

He rolled his hips forward, breathed slowly out at the pleasure feathering through his body, arched his neck. So much for attempting to sleep on his front, when he'd thought about Kurogane anyway, got hard anyway.

He reached down, stilled to listen out for Kurogane's even breathing in the other cot, then slipped his hand into his sleeping shorts, fought down a moan when he curled his fingers around himself.

It wasn't difficult to remember all the sheer violence Kurogane possessed. In fact, it was all the more arousing to have him sharing the same tent, being so close to the threat that could very well kill him—

And Kurogane could, couldn't he? He was powerful enough to put an end to Fai. He grinned in that way, the confident, bloodthirsty way, and he was a beautiful specimen of a man, hard muscles and lean body and that touch—

Fai swallowed a gasp, thrust slowly into his fingers, shifting them to smear leaking wetness against heated skin. He shivered at the slickness, grew wetter for it, felt his breath catch. It was slightly uncomfortable doing this flat against the taut canvas of his cot, yet the pressure it offered was very welcome. He hadn't had to resort to this in a while—Kurogane was awake most nights, after he'd whispered things the other couldn't understand, confessed to his heart's content. Tonight, he'd been distracted by that bloodlust and had pretended to sleep. (So much for that.)

He turned on his side to free up some space, dragged his fingers slowly along himself, mouth falling open at the sensation. Kurogane would be the only one who stood a good chance of ending him, freeing him of running and being scared. He was violent enough for that, would probably grin when he stood over Fai—

There was a low creak of wood, and Fai stopped abruptly, listening out for movement, fist wrapped snugly around his erection. He waited half a minute, fingers pressing slowly into skin, and pulled his hips slowly away, pushed back to fill his hand. His breathing stumbled.

He decided that Kurogane was still asleep, released himself, wriggled to peel the hem of his shorts down. The air in the tent was cool against his flushed skin, and he trailed his fingers along the underside of his shaft, trembled at the shiver that jolted down his spine. He didn't hear the next creak, or the next, until there was a sudden warmth at his hip.

Fai jerked his hand away, almost guiltily, half-naked and exposed and so very hard. Calloused fingers found him easily, wrapped firm around the blunt end of his length. He couldn't help thrusting into them, even as he gasped, and a warm, familiar body squeezed onto the cot behind him, wide chest pressed to his back.

Well.

There wasn't anything he could say to defend himself—not that he could, and not that Kurogane would demand an explanation, not for this.

Firm fingers stroked along his cock, slowly. He trembled, reached up for that sturdy forearm to anchor himself, pushed forward, needing more. Fai almost whined when Kurogane released him, ran fingers along the sides of his flesh, tracing the little veins along his skin. Warm breath soughed through his hair. He bucked into the other's hand, impatient, and ground his hips backwards, into the groin an inch behind him. Kurogane drew a sharp breath.

Things slipped out of his control there, when Kurogane pressed back, hard through the layers of their clothes, and he whimpered, needing more. He reached behind, fumbled through clothes, moaned when hot, damp firmness pushed into his palm. A hand slipped into the back of his shorts, squeezed his ass, and large fingers eased deeper, pressing lightly against his entrance.

He probably wasn't thinking clearly, not when his attention was split between the pleasure in his groin and the promising weight in his hand. Fai pushed back, inviting.

Kurogane's hand retreated, then returned, cool and slick, and Fai gasped when a finger teased him, circling and pressing until he finally whined, "please!"

It was perhaps too intimate, when Kurogane pressed into him. He shuddered and clenched, adjusting to the new touch. The other began to pull away; he pushed his hips back, begging for more _(deeper, now)_. So the finger slid further in, stroking and crooking, and then another joined it. They spread him apart, exploring, until they  _(fuck)_  hit a particular spot, and Fai's back was arching and he was snapping his hips and a moan was tearing out of his throat.

Kurogane left that spot alone, relaxed his grip around Fai, and he whined, tugging on Kurogane with insistent fingers until a third finger slid in. He squirmed, tongue thick with lust.

Then those fingers curled hard within him and all he knew was a blinding white pleasure that swept through his body and he was arching and crying out and lost to the world.

When he recovered, dazed and satiated, Kurogane was back in his cot. Those dark eyes were still on him, however, and Fai felt a little smile quirk his lips. He tugged his shorts back on right, crawled into Kurogane's space, plucked at his clothes. Kurogane didn't object (Fai didn't expect him to), and there was still a slight grin on his mouth when he found and teased hot, heavy flesh that seemed to be waiting for his touch.

Kurogane's answering smile was a very attractive one, Fai thought, before he decided not to think any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending scene was actually influenced by/written for clampkink, which inspired so many things in this series, omg :P Hope you guys enjoyed this!


	6. Music and Bravery

 

The change in leadership of Kurogane's men did not go over well. In the day following Kurogane's violent outburst, Fai found himself with difficulties leading the men he'd inherited. They had grown used to Kurogane's short, sharp words of command, and Fai could not speak. He'd learned the wordless signals that Yukito used; getting the men to adapt to them was another matter, however.

The language barrier wasn't the only thing he had working against him. For all that he'd been with the army for two months, and had not disappointed them with his performance, Fai was still blond, pale-faced, and a number of men were still suspicious of him. Crooked Nose and his followers had been sowing seeds of distrust in the army the entire time; they would not let Fai live down the failed attacks unscathed. Kurogane growled during the drills, yelled at his men to obey their new officer.

That held some sway over the men.

Crooked Nose had also landed himself a position as an officer. One of Yasha's officers had fallen during Kurogane's short-lived massacre; Crooked Nose had wormed himself into the position somehow, and Kurogane had not been happy about it. The man was now in a better position than ever to spawn trouble for Fai.

That night, Yasha's men returned to the Moon Castle. Ashura's army was nowhere to be seen—the other side of the battlefield was empty, with dust-lined winds sweeping across the landscape. Hushed murmurs had sprung up in pockets, and then there had been a victorious cheer of sorts. From their grins and whoops, Fai figured that the men were certain they'd finally driven their enemies away.

He stood with Kurogane in front of their troops. They exchanged a wary look. The army waited the entire span of hours; men muttered between themselves, stamped their feet. It seemed that this phenomenon had not occurred before.

The next night was the same, and so was the night after. Yasha's officers and generals held discussions every night about potential threats and strategies; Kurogane followed Fai to these meetings. There was no way for Fai to sit through these alone unscathed, with Crooked Nose trying to undermine him at every turn, and though the officers frowned upon Kurogane's presence, they had come to value his views and ideas. Lower rank or not, it was stupid to turn away one of the most powerful men in the army.

Crooked Nose had little advantage over Kurogane in these meetings. Kurogane had been allowed to stay in the tent he shared with Fai—the ninja expected to return to his previous position soon, so Fai had not questioned it. In the grander scheme of things, this wasn't where they were meant to be, after all.

He only hoped that the children would show up soon. It had been a little over two months since they landed here, and there was still no sign of them.

* * *

For all that Big Kitty joined the household suddenly, he was very much a cat. He spat furballs and licked Little Kitty and Little Puppy all over in his daily cleaning rituals, and shoved himself in Big Doggy's face in the middle of the night. He stole food from Big Doggy's bowl; Big Doggy ended up chasing Big Kitty around the kitchen, sending pots and pans clattering to the floor. In the same unfair way that the lanky blond stranger had turned Big Doggy into a shapeshifter, he now found himself punished by his mistress, kept leashed in his own home, unable to prowl as he wished.

Big Kitty skulked around and taunted him, and Big Doggy felt all the more offended when Little Kitty and Little Doggy came to play with him because he couldn't go to them. He tried swiping at Big Kitty, to no avail.

(Kurogane jabbed his finger at the comic, and at himself. "I'm not that pathetic!"

Fai smiled and waved his complaint off.)

* * *

The soldiers were tired of standing guard on an empty battlefield by the end of the week, and two days into the second week, Yasha agreed to cut down the number of soldiers who were sent to the Moon Castle.

The army was split into two—the castle would be alternately guarded by each company. Fai wasn't surprised when Kurogane was promoted to an officer once more. Kurogane was given a fresh set of men, assigned to guard the Castle on the days Fai had the night off at the camp. Now that the troops weren't being utilized for a war, plans were underway to have the men work on a set of crops to supplement those damaged by the flood two months ago.

Thus, it was on one of the humid nights when Kurogane was away that Fai found himself confronted yet again by Crooked Nose and his men.

The camp was lit by campfires, though it was quieter with half the soldiers around. There was singing and fiddle-playing, and wood-carving and men playing chessboard games against each other. Fai was weaving through the little gathered groups with a fresh bucket of water for the tent when Crooked Nose and a few others converged around him, cruel faces sneering.

They were in plain sight this time; Crooked Nose was saying something he didn't understand, and people were starting to look over. There were a few wolf-whistles; one or two of the officer's friends leered at him.

Fai drew a deep breath, set his bucket of water down. He felt the prickle of his tattoo, remembered the puncturing of Tomoyo's needle-brush through his skin, remembered Ashura's magic, strong and kind and protective. He didn't need Kurogane to help him out of this. In fact, he wanted give them something to remember so they wouldn't dare touch him again.

They did not approach him with violence this time, however. The men closed in on him in a circle. Some of the bystanders threw Kurogane's name around; Fai was not so blind that he didn't know a great many soldiers thought of him as Kurogane's lover. (Which he would not acknowledge, not even now.)

The two nearest men grabbed him by the arms, one on each side. He was boxed in, with more soldiers drifting closer, their own pastimes abandoned. Crooked Nose stepped up, grabbed Fai's chin with grubby fingers. That touch was sickening; Fai curled his lip in distaste. Yet, they had done nothing to him; so he waited to see how best he should retaliate—four men was nothing. His heart was thudding hard in his chest, and he knew that he would emerge victorious one way or another.

His forearms were roughly shoved behind his back—such treatment of an officer, really—but Fai stood his ground, followed coolly as they brought him towards one of the campfires, where the soldiers had moved away to give them space. Crooked Nose smirked and laughed loudly, some teeth missing.

They had no right to do this, not to someone Ashura treasured.

Fai was forced down to his knees. Heat began to build in his chest. It traveled outwards in slow, inexorable waves, that cold anger, oozing into his shoulders and arms and legs, and by the time they'd stripped him of the armor on his chest and back, Fai was burning. His magic pulsed at his fingertips, sparked at the back of his eyes. He paid no mind to the way the soldiers had fallen silent at the tattoo on his back.

When Crooked Nose towered over him, gleeful, Fai tipped his head back to meet his eyes, all traces of docility gone from his face. There was a cold, tickling hunger at the top of his throat; his shoulders were tight not from nerves, but from the coiled tension in his body, ready to spring.

He could tell the exact moment when Crooked Nose realized that Fai wasn't really being held captive, after all.

The gloating smile froze. Faint terror slipped into beady black eyes, and Fai smiled thinly.

There had been times when enemies on the Celesian battlefield had reminded Fai too much of his uncle, or when someone had dared offend him by slandering his king. One instance was not usually enough to shake him, but—with enough prompting, with enough reason to kill, Fai would. Without hesitation. He had clawed the guts from a person before. He would do so again.

Fai rose to his feet. The soldiers who had grabbed his arms tried to force him back down; he shook them off, twisted out of their grip, glanced at the crowd who was watching, none of whom lifted a finger to help. His chest burned. It would be so easy to take all these men down, to kill them with a sweep of magic. But he didn't. There wasn't any point in doing that.

He took one step forward, then another, and Crooked Nose backed away, tripped over his feet in fear. He fell backwards, landing hard on his ass, and Fai paused at his side, shoved his foot against the other's chest, stepped down hard. Crooked Nose thumped heavily against the ground; his head bounced. Fai shifted his weight, felt bones creak beneath his boot, and the soldiers around began to protest.

He shot them a glare, cold and regal, the very one Ashura had used to silence courts of belligerent foreign diplomats. He wasn't sure if it was the glare or the intent to murder around him, or even the faint thrum of magic that did it, but the soldiers fell silent, fell back.

He increased the pressure on Crooked Nose's chest; the man was gasping, grabbing at his foot to throw him off, and Fai was tempted to kick him into unconsciousness. Crooked Nose's legs cycled helplessly; he tried turning to throw Fai's weight off, his voice cracked, and he began to plead. (It was pathetic.) Fai stared down at him, stared at the soldiers around them, some who wore expressions of horror, some uncertainty. But they knew that Crooked Nose was the instigator of this, was the one who had drawn them around to be witnesses, and they knew that Fai could easily kill them all.

Fai made no attempt to hide that.

He decided he'd had enough of this unpleasant attention, lifted his foot off the man's chest, looked around again in challenge. None stepped up.

So he turned away to retrieve his bucket; sensed his fallen opponent rolling onto his feet, heard the hiss of a sword being drawn. He felt it whistle towards him, twisted nimbly around, avoided the keen metal blade by long inches. (Even Kurogane couldn't land a hit on him—what made Crooked Nose think he could?)

Fai took two quick steps forward, turned sharply on his ankle so he was behind Crooked Nose, dagger against sweaty throat before the latter could move. He pressed the blade against skin, hard enough that Crooked Nose dropped his sword, raised his trembling hands in the air. Fai held the position for a long moment, could almost hear the nervous swallows of their audience, and finally pulled away, tucked the dagger back into its holster at his hip.

He kicked the man in the back of his knees, forcing him to hit the ground, and swept his hand in a decisive downward stroke, left to right.  _Dismissed._

The crowd scattered; Fai picked his bucket up, stalking away to gather his discarded clothes. Behind, Crooked Nose was still whimpering, surrounded by a couple of his men.

Fai put the entire incident out of his mind, drew deep breaths to calm the heat in his chest. Kurogane had slain Yasha's men and got off the hook easily—it had only gone to show how much the army favored violence. With this display, Fai knew that he had proven himself worthier of being kept on as a soldier. It was cold comfort, though at least Kurogane need not be worried about his safety after this. He had done Ashura proud, too. Probably.

Fai halted the rest of his thoughts about his beloved sovereign, hurried back to his tent with a fresh bucket of water. His hands were still shaking.

By the time Kurogane returned from his watch at the Moon Castle, though, Fai had calmed. There was a new drawing of Big Doggy and his family on the floor, he was wearing the silliest grin on his face, and he'd started on one of their last bottles of wine. Kurogane clicked his tongue, snatched the bottle away for a mouthful.

The news would probably reach Kurogane soon, he figured. For now, it was nice to have the warrior huff irritatedly over the littlest things.

* * *

He heard more rumors in little snatches as they walked together to the officers' bathing tent, skirting around campfires and people alike. There had been whispers on the way to their tent, things about "the yellow-haired one" and "the outsider", and Crooked Nose's name being thrown around in hushed tones. Yet, when he'd ducked beneath the entrance flaps, Fai had been in an honest, good mood.

Still was, in fact.

The idiot was skipping along with clean clothes under one arm and a pleased smile hovering on his mouth that didn't seem to dissipate. He hadn't drunk enough to smell like liquor, and Kurogane had yelled at him for the stupid comic that never showed Big Doggy in a good light. (Big Kitty had been sitting on Big Doggy's back and using him as room-to-room transportation.)

The bathing tent had a handful of officers this time; they nodded greetings at each other. Kurogane let Fai collect his bath water first, lingered closer to the officers in case they dropped more information about what had ignited those rumors.

"There was a crowd around them—he was fierce!"

"Took him down just like that, I heard."

"You should've seen it. Made me shiver. I wasn't even the one getting beat up."

"Why were they even fighting?"

"Dunno. I thought he was gonna fuck Yellow Hair."

Kurogane stiffened at that, glanced at Fai, who'd stripped and was lathering soap over himself in the opposite corner of the tent. He sent the other officers a sour glance, stalked across the wooden floorboards to the blond, who seemed content to sit with his back to everyone else as he scrubbed sweat off his skin. The tattoo stared hard at the rest of the men.

They didn't attempt to communicate when there were people sharing the bathing tent, so Kurogane settled for eavesdropping on the conversation in the other corner. The officers had been darting uncertain glances at Fai ever since they'd entered. From the low mutters, Kurogane figured that Fai had faced off against Crooked Nose and won. He was proud of that, but. What had prompted such a reaction from Fai? Fai, who ran and hid and who would rather let himself be bullied because he didn't think he deserved any scrap of happiness?

_I'm waiting for someone to take me away,_  he'd said.

Kurogane studied the wizard. He hadn't waited this time, had he? He'd taken things into his own hands. From the sounds of things, Crooked Nose wouldn't be bothering him anytime in the near future, and the officers had even speculated on whether Kurogane would want to get even. What for? For trying to fuck—

His shoulders tensed; he looked back at Fai, studied him for any signs of injury. There were none. He didn't move like he hurt at all, but that wasn't very telling where Fai was concerned. He should— Well, they could decide that later.

For now, Kurogane wished he had been there to see what Fai had done to the man who had been plaguing him for so long. Warmth sat heavy and smooth in his chest, something like pride, and something like the affection he felt towards the kids, though not quite.

The officers left shortly after, and Kurogane watched the wizard from the corner of his eye. They rinsed in silence. Fai was still treading lightly when they made their way back to their tent, soiled clothes in hand. Kurogane tied the tent flaps shut; Fai dropped his clothes on the chair to the side, where he'd pick them apart tomorrow.

"Hey," Kurogane said. He watched the other in the darkness of the tent, knew Fai could see him just as well. When Fai met his gaze, he pointed away, pinched the tip of his nose and wriggled it. _Crooked Nose?_

The half-smile that lingered on Fai's mouth stretched into an indulgent one. Slender eyebrows lifted, as if Fai was asking,  _What about him?_

Kurogane picked up the drawing stick, sketched the tier of officers, curled his hand to mimic talking. Fai merely continued smiling, and Kurogane exhaled, impatience gnawing at him. "C'mon," he said, dropped his own sweat-stained uniform. "Tell me what happened."

Fai remained standing where he was. He brought his hands up, pressed them flat together, then opened them up along one edge to signify a book. Head tipped to a side,  _Reading?_

"No. Not tonight." Kurogane closed the distance between them, grabbed Fai's elbow, tugged him over to the cots. Fai sat when he pointed at the thick canvas, watching him amusedly. He sighed, pinched his nose and wriggled it again. When the wizard blinked, Kurogane settled a little ways behind him on the cot, tugged on the hems of Fai's shirt to pull it off. "Just making sure he didn't hurt you."

Which was a pitiful excuse for someone who disliked lying so much, but Kurogane wasn't in the mood to discuss anything tonight, either.

Fai's breath caught when the shirt came off. He helped to remove it, however, and sat still when Kurogane touched slow fingers to his back, tracing the lines of the tattoo with his eyes.

It was a thing of beauty, Fai's tattoo. He saw clearly the head of the great bird, and the sleek lines that swept over Fai's back, curling in symmetry and protection. Kurogane was certain that the design meant something to the wizard. The damn witch had taken something resembling this away from him on that rainy afternoon they'd met—he hadn't paid it much attention then, but the more he thought about it, the more certain Kurogane was that Fai had tried to replace the symbol. That he'd gone to Tomoyo for it only made this more significant.

He flattened his palms against Fai's shoulders, brought them down firmly along the other's back to check for injuries, all the way to his waist. Fai shivered.

In the dimness of the tent, there was no color, only shades of grey, and Kurogane's hands were blocks of solid tones that broke the continuity of the thick, bold lines on Fai's back. He touched his fingers to the other's spine, fascinated, brushed his thumb over the elegant curve of the phoenix's head, then down, following the warm furrow of smooth skin.

Fai shifted his shoulders. In that moment, it looked as if the bird moved, and Kurogane couldn't stop staring, couldn't help leaning forward, pressing his mouth to the crest of the phoenix's head. Fai gasped; the air in the tent shifted, so very slightly, and he was thumbing down the other's spine, following it with slow, wet kisses that had Fai releasing a sigh.

For how much Fai liked to keep his skin hidden, he was so very sensitive to touch, and Kurogane dearly enjoyed touching him, especially when the other was only too keen to lean into his heat, to shed his clothes in the way he wouldn't with his masks. Times like this, when Kurogane kissed his way back up, traced the tip of his tongue against the other's skin, Fai trembled, breath hitching.

He smoothed fingers down the curve of the phoenix's wings—Fai leaned forward at the slightest pressure from his fingertips—and pressed his nose and forehead against the chest of the powerful bird.  _You almost feel like home,_  he wanted to say but did not. Instead, Kurogane closed his eyes, breathed slowly against Fai's skin. The other squirmed; he let his hands fall to narrow hips in response, slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband of loose shorts, and Fai swallowed noisily.

Kurogane tugged lightly on his hips; Fai squirmed further backwards onto the cot. He pulled the other onto his lap, slipped a hand beneath him, and Fai whined, arched his back, crawled forward partway to free his ass. Kurogane wasn't one to refuse an invitation; he slipped those thin shorts off, ran his hands down, cupped the soft skin of Fai's balls. Fai made a soft sound of surprise. Kurogane leaned in, licked over the lightly-fuzzed skin of Fai's back, reached up. His fingers pressed into smooth, firm muscle, spread them apart. Fai's breathing stumbled; he pushed himself at Kurogane, moaned when Kurogane dipped his thumb into the cleft of his ass, stroked him in slow circles, pulling his touch away and returning over and over until Fai began to whine, rock his hips insistently for more.

He coaxed Fai further forward, shifted down to lick where his fingers had been (there was a harsh intake of breath), following the trail deeper, until his tongue touched the edges of darker, puckered muscle, and Fai shuddered, pleaded in that strange, lilting language of his. He could hear the rattling scratch of nails on canvas, flattening his hand against tight, warm balls and smooth, heavy flesh, and Fai jerked into his fingers.

When he pressed his tongue flat against the other's entrance, Fai shook in his grasp, rolled his hips backwards, breathing unsteadily.  _Please._

He pulled away, shed his own shorts—it was getting cramped in there—and Fai writhed, glanced back, his expression heavy with desire. Kurogane smiled, slung an arm around his waist and drew him close, grinding into damp skin. Fai moaned, ground right back.

They unraveled from there, when he looked at the tattoo again, when he thought about what Fai had to have done, to set the other soldiers talking like they'd witnessed a bloodthirsty animal. It intrigued him, aroused him, and Kurogane wanted this man who understood his violence, who was powerful and dangerous and kind and clever.

He pulled back a little, found the vial he'd tucked under his pillow, fumbled with it one-handed until cooking oil dripped onto his fingers and palm and down onto the cot, and returned to Fai, who was watching with dark, half-lidded eyes, tongue darting over his lips. Kurogane slipped slick fingers down between them, and Fai groaned low in his throat, arched his back.

He eased the other open, leaned down to press kisses to the tattoo, up one wing and down the other, and Fai writhed beneath him, bucking his hips so he slid around Kurogane's finger, warm and snug. He'd thought about being sheathed in Fai, hadn't attempted it before, but as the other purred and gasped when he pressed a second finger in, then a third, spreading and stretching, Kurogane's breathing quickened.

When he removed his fingers and rubbed his erection against Fai, and all he received was a hard, demanding shove of narrow hips, Kurogane's breath rushed out of his chest; he slicked himself with the remaining oil on his palm, angled and pressed in, and— _oh fuck._

Fai's moan was raw, primal; his hips snapped, and Kurogane found himself buried deep, tight heat stretched around him. Neither of them were thinking, only rutting and groaning. He remembered vaguely that one spot in Fai, the one that had him coming violently the past few times he'd stroked it with his fingers, tried to angle himself differently.

Fai jerked and gasped beneath him. Kurogane had braced himself forward on one arm, reached the other around to touch Fai, and the new angle had Fai growing thick, hot fluid trailing liberally from his tip. He was close. Neither of them could speak; he anchored Fai with the hand around his cock, rolled his hips, thrusting deep, deeper, and then Fai's voice broke in the middle of a moan and he was pulsing in Kurogane's hand, his entire body shaking.

The pressure in his groin grew unbearable. He was slamming in when his climax came; it swept through him with dizzying force, turned his vision black for a long moment, and he only vaguely registered himself spilling into Fai.

When he blinked himself back to consciousness, Kurogane found Fai sprawled on the cot beneath him. They were pressed sweatily together, catching their breaths, and he pulled himself unwillingly away, though not before he brushed his mouth against the curve of one black, smooth wing.

Fai mumbled when Kurogane hauled him back into his own cot. He squirmed, narrow ass unfairly attractive, and Kurogane had to consciously drag his gaze to the other side of the tent. From Fai's reactions, he guessed that Crooked Nose wasn't able to make much of a move on him at all. The wizard had been able to stand up for himself. It sent a wave of relief through him, though he probably shouldn't have enjoyed the investigation quite that thoroughly.

Fai's breathing came deep and even; he was already asleep.

"Idiot," Kurogane muttered. Him and the wizard, both.

* * *

By the next day, soldiers through the camp were watching Fai with wary side glances. They gave him a wide berth like what they'd done to Kurogane right after he'd lost control, and the ninja was pleased to note that Fai's soldiers obeyed his silent commands during the early afternoon drills. Fai, himself, smiled like he usually did, though there was a relaxed ease about him—he liked it best when no one tried to see past his fronts.

Kurogane would have wanted to know what they'd witnessed of Fai the previous night, except the wizard had inadvertently revealed it that very afternoon.

He'd been walking through the banked campfires, looking for the idiot because he needed to spar and rebuild his lost strength (which hadn't been going very well) when Fai came waltzing up to him, all smiles and bright grins. And, with a handful of lounging soldiers to the side, Fai had looped his arm through Kurogane's, rubbing up to him like the damn cat he hadn't been since Outo.

Kurogane frowned deep; the soldiers stared for a stunned moment, then broke out into hushed mutters.

And Fai turned, all humor dropping from his eyes and mouth in an icy stare that read,  _One more word and I will hurt you._

The soldiers fell silent. Fai was back to cheery smiles the next instant, tugging Kurogane along to the sparring grounds.

Later, he'd hear whispers among the soldiers, that  _it's no wonder Kurogane's the only one sleeping with him,_  and  _if you dare insult one, the other will probably kill you._  He didn't bother correcting them, largely because they were right.

* * *

The days faded into the weekend and their next day off. It had been a slow two weeks—Yasha had redistributed the troops again, into quarters this time, and he'd even considered taking the generals off the Castle patrols. On their days away from the battlefield, the army had been working on the crops, cutting down trees and building more furniture to replace ones they'd done without since the flood.

Fai had been glancing more frequently at the fiddles the soldiers played. Some nights, when they joined Touya and Yukito at their campfire and drank and listened to the jaunty campfire music, Fai's fingers would twitch, and he'd slip his eyes shut, holding himself tightly despite the way he wanted so badly to let loose. When their next payday came along, Kurogane had decided what he'd do with the money they'd been saving for when the kids came along.

It had been three months, now. Had the kids missed them entirely? Would they remain in Yama for the rest of their lives?

As it was, a day off was a day off, and Kurogane wasn't going to complain.

Fai didn't protest when he led them through the bustling market, his glower keeping interested vendors from sidling up to hawk their wares. It appeared that neither Fai's nor his reputation had reached the city yet; the womenfolk were friendly towards him, and distrustful where it came to Fai. Kurogane shrugged it off; the news would get around soon enough.

Different strains of music seeped through the marketplace. There was the echo of drums and the haunting melody of bamboo flutes, the quick dance of plucked strings and the mellow warble of catgut singing. Kurogane spotted what he was looking for when they rounded a corner shop into a street full of colorful wood-and-canvas booths. Fai had perked up at the tunes, and as they drew closer to the fiddle shop, his interest anchored on the different long-necked instruments hanging on the back wall, the koto on display out front, and the flutes to the sides.

Kurogane stopped in front of the booth. Fai turned to look at him in surprise, golden eyebrows high on his forehead. He pointed at a koto, then at Kurogane, grinned amusedly.

"No," he muttered, nodded towards the instruments. "Pick one."

With both of them as officers, now, their combined wages had significantly increased. Kurogane didn't doubt that they had enough to afford something, at least.

Fai blinked at him. He pointed at himself.  _Me?_

Kurogane sighed and nodded, and Fai's eyebrows drew together. He looked as though he would protest, either because of the cost, or his desire to hide his musical ability, or whatever—Kurogane didn't really care. "Pick one," he said again, jerked his chin at the instruments.

The wizard sent him a last, uncertain look, then tested the koto, slender, pale fingers reaching out to pluck at one of several long strings. A high note rang out, almost lost to the bustle of the crowd. Fai pursed his lips, plucked at another string, and made his way down the entire chord.

The shopkeeper frowned. She looked like the piano woman back in Outo, Kurogane thought, with dark, wavy hair and pale skin, though he was certain that the one at the Clover Bar had a different set to her jaw. The disapproval in her eyes melted, however, when Fai tested a final note and began to play a simple tune on the koto.

Something had flickered into his face when he began playing, light and glowing like happy surprise. (Fai would fit right in as Tomoyo's court musician, Kurogane thought briefly.) The wizard smiled to himself, paused, and the next melody he plucked was one far more complex, one that reminded Kurogane of butterflies fluttering in Tomoyo's garden, galloping horses across a river, and the meek deer that darted into the dense undergrowth of the Nihon forests.

When Fai stopped playing and looked up, his lips twitching, Kurogane frowned, looked away. He gave an impatient huff. Fai's expression melted into one of pity; he reached up to pat Kurogane's shoulder, his smile patronizing.  _Maybe someday,_  it seemed to say,  _Kuro-rin might not have the talent for this, but he can still try._

"Fuck you," Kurogane snapped, shook the idiot's hand off his shoulder.

Fai just grinned.

He turned back to the shopkeeper, who had a less reproachful look about her now, and pointed at one of the flutes. She took a few moments to pick one, handed it to him warily with a word of caution. Fai beamed, studied the flute, turning it about in his hands. Kurogane watched as he experimented with blowing into the mouthpiece, long fingers slipping over the holes of the pipe to cover them.

The hollow tune that ensued wasn't as polished as the one he'd played on the koto; it was a decent piece, all things considered, but the music sounded flat in his hands, and Kurogane caught the faint furrow in the blond's forehead when one of his notes sounded off-key, somehow. Fai shook his head and shrugged apologetically at the shopkeeper, who took the flute back.

"Let him try one of the ones at the back," Kurogane said, glancing towards the array of hanging kokyu—they weren't exactly like the ones he'd seen in Nihon, but they sounded and looked similar, with the small round body at the base of a long, straight neck. Fai had seemed to want one of these so very badly whenever the soldiers at camp played, and although it wasn't anything like the piano he loved, Kurogane figured that a bit of music would help the idiot move away from those stupid animal comics. He could appreciate music, at least.

"Are you going to buy anything?" the shopkeeper demanded suspiciously, looking at Fai again.

"If we find something this guy likes, yes," Kurogane said with a lot more patience than he felt. He nodded towards the row of kokyu. "He likes those best."

"Very well." The woman took one off the back wall of her booth, handed it over with its accompanying bow.

Fai brightened; he took the instrument, shifted closer to the koto table so it could support the weight of the kokyu like how the soldiers held it, and slid the bow across the taut strings of the instrument. The sound that issued was jarring, like someone had slid the bow the wrong way. Fai winced. A few passers-by looked over. The shopkeeper frowned and leaned forward, avoiding the wizard's hand when she held the bow to adjust its angle.

"Now try again," she said.

Fai dragged the bow firmly across the strings, his fingers moving slowly along the neck of the kokyu, and gradually, he found the notes he was looking for. Some other shoppers had stopped by to look at the other instruments; the woman moved away to greet them, keeping a wary eye on Fai all the same. A long jumble of awkward notes later, Fai played a simple melody—a different one from what he'd plucked on the koto—and he smiled at Kurogane, extending the kokyu and bow back to the shopkeeper.

"You rather have the koto?" Kurogane asked, glancing at Fai and pointing at the broad, ten-string instrument that Fai had first played. Fai frowned, tipped his head to the side. He didn't understand. So Kurogane reached for his money pouch.

Fai's eyebrows shot right up his forehead. He blinked rapidly at Kurogane, backed away, shook his head.

"How much for the koto?" Kurogane asked.

"The cheapest, four coppers. If you want something better, five."

"The kokyu?"

"One copper at the lowest. Two coppers for the ones with better wood and strings."

Fai was still frowning. He backed away, waved dismissively, but Kurogane caught him glancing towards the koto again. He'd picked that up faster than he did the kokyu, and though its long, wide frame was cumbersome and a pain to move around, it seemed that Fai had an affinity for more complex instruments.

Kurogane made sure to hold Fai's gaze before he pointed at the koto and pulled a copper ingot out of his wallet, raised his fingers to signal  _four_. He did the same with the kokyu; he pointed at the back wall, and flashed a  _one_. Fai pursed his lips, eyes flickering between the two instruments.

The shopkeeper, sensing a potential sale, stepped up. "The koto is a better buy, you know. Your friend's better at it than he is on the other one. What's more—"

Kurogane ignored her. He glanced at Fai, who was looking at his wallet, and at the kokyu again. (It didn't surprise Kurogane. Fai had sent him on a number of errands to save various amounts of money, though that was when they had the kids to account for. In Yama, there were only the two of them.)

He was ready when Fai looked at him once more, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, brows furrowed and raised.  _Really?_

He snorted, reached over to tap Fai on the back where his tattoo was. "Not like you haven't been spending it."

Understanding, then hope, flashed in the wizard's eyes. He opened his mouth, on the verge of saying something, though he looked at the shopkeeper (who had her hands propped impatiently on her hips) and shut it just as quickly.

"The kokyu, then," Kurogane said, pointed at the row of instruments at the back.

"Which? I have three different varieties."

They watched as the woman pulled more instruments from the back wall, handed them to Fai. Fai turned them over in his hands, plucked at the strings and played them with their bows. He lingered briefly on the most expensive ("aged maplewood," said the shopkeeper) and the cheapest ("coconut, but it plays just as good"), and finally settled on the one in-between ("cedarwood, good choice, nice balance").

Kurogane was about to hand the payment over when Fai stopped him with a hand on his arm and checked the instrument over once more, before pulling out his own money pouch.

He knocked Fai's hands away. "I'm paying."

Fai frowned at him, dug insistently into his own savings. The shopkeeper's expression turned into one of amusement. She extended an open palm; they shoved their ingots into it, and Fai snatched Kurogane's money out of her hand before he could protest.

"Hey!" he snapped.

Fai sent him a gloating look, shoved the warm, heavy nuggets back into Kurogane's palm.

"I'm buying booze with this, you idiot," he growled, because he'd decided that the money would be spent, anyway. Fai made a face at him.

There was a bounce to the wizard's step when they made their way to Tomoyo's with the kokyu and two jugs of wine in hand, shoving at each other the entire way. Kurogane swore at Fai; Fai attempted to whistle through his stupid puckered lips (that Kurogane thought would be better kissed swollen). He ended up trying to pinch Fai's mouth shut, wine jugs clinking in his other hand, and Fai muttered, "Hyuu, hyuu."

He very nearly punched Fai, who grinned in delight and leaped ahead, and Kurogane yelled at him for being an idiot.

* * *

Tomoyo was glad to have them over, as usual. She took one look at their flushed cheeks and smiled behind her hand, something Kurogane found both nostalgic and annoying at the same time.

"Quit laughing at me," he said, ducking his head to clear the low entryway of her tent. "It's all the idiot's fault."

"I'm laughing because the two of you are funny," she replied, her voice light and musical. She peered at the wrapped package Fai cradled in his arms. "What do you have there?"

Fai beamed at her, sat down to unwrap his new toy. Kurogane huffed and stalked around her home, following her to the kitchen.

"Have you dreamed of Tomoyo-hime again?" he asked, standing in the doorway with his arms folded. "I have some things to tell her."

The kitchen was almost too tiny to be called one. It was cramped; there was a pantry and some buckets of stored water, a firewood stove where Tomoyo had a kettle keeping warm, a table for food preparation, and a crockery rack. Kurogane watched while she put some tea leaves into a separate ceramic teapot to steep, and went about her languid way slicing up more of those red bean cakes that Fai loved so much.

"What is it?" she spared him a look, dark eyes kind and open. "She says she has dreamed about you."

Kurogane drew a sharp breath. Did she know? "I disobeyed her orders."

Tomoyo didn't appear to be surprised. She smiled lightly at him, set her teapot, teacups and the plate of cakes on a tray, and bringing them back out into her sitting room, where Fai was figuring out the kokyu. "Ah, that's a beautiful one, Fai! Do you play?"

The wizard smiled up at her, waved dismissively, shook his head. He brightened at the sight of the dusky red cakes, however.

"That guy just bought it today," Kurogane said. Then, because Tomoyo-hime liked little details, he added, "he's been wanting one for a while."

"I see he's delighted to have it." Tomoyo gestured for Kurogane to sit and took a seat herself, perched on the edge of her cushioned chair with her hands in her lap. They watched as Fai experimented with different fingerings on the kokyu, slid the bow in short, quick strokes to listen to the notes it produced. This went on for a minute or so before he looked up at them, frowned, and waved them away, saying something in his own language.

They didn't move, so Fai turned his back on them, head bowed to concentrate on the instrument.

"At least now he's got something to entertain himself with," Kurogane said.

"He didn't before?" The smile on Tomoyo's face fell. She reached forward, pouring steaming tea into the cups she'd brought out. "I thought he might have been lonely, but... Surely you've been a good friend to him, Kurogane."

"Tch. He's been drawing stupid comics." He glanced at Fai, reached for his own cup of tea. Fai had borrowed his maganyan to read once, though he'd pulled a face and given up after a while—the story was better when one understood the text. "Some crap about dogs and cats. You can only look at those for so long without busting an artery."

Tomoyo laughed. "He draws well. I can only imagine it's been difficult for him in the army. He doesn't speak our language."

He sighed. "He doesn't."

"You've been taking care of him, then?"

Kurogane shrugged, glancing away and hoping that the flush creeping up his neck wasn't obvious. "I'm not here to talk about him. I've got questions for Tomoyo-hime."

"You  _have_  been looking out for him, right?" Tomoyo's tone grew reproachful, much like what his own Tomoyo would have done. "You can't leave him alone to fend for himself—"

"Of course I have!" he snapped, embarrassed to have to spell it out for her. "He's a pain to keep an eye on."

(Not really, Fai wasn't.)

"That's good." She was back to wearing a smile and glancing at the wizard again. (Fai looked back at them and frowned; he could feel their attention on him.) "You said you disobeyed Tomoyo-hime's orders."

"Yeah. I killed some guys last week." It was shameful to admit that he hadn't been able to follow his princess's orders, when there weren't even that many of them to begin with. "I wasn't myself."

Tomoyo pursed her lips. "I see."

He waited another moment before asking, "Did she really have to send me away?"

Kurogane had come to accept his lot in life by this point. If Tomoyo hadn't forced him on this journey, he wouldn't have met Fai and the kids, and, well. It was reason enough, he supposed. Still. He had liked being the one she could count upon to protect her. He'd pledged his service to her, and this hadn't anything to do with it.

"She said it would be good for you." Tomoyo's gaze drifted to a far corner of the room; she sipped from her teacup. "Also that there are things greater than all of us that we have to yield to. That's part of why you're on this journey."

His brow furrowed. "Something greater than us? Like what? We haven't seen the kids in goddamn forever."

It was unnerving to think of himself as a pawn—as anyone but Tomoyo's pawn. From the way this Tomoyo was answering his questions, it felt as though she knew that the kids were coming here someday. Was this information he wanted to share with Fai? Would the idiot clam up again if he was back to hopping worlds and looking behind himself?

Did he want Fai to change from how he was now?

She shrugged. "I can't tell you more than that."

"Now you're starting to sound like that damn witch."

Tomoyo cracked a grin. "Yuuko? I've heard of her."

"I don't want to talk about her," he replied. The witch had interrupted his fights, sent cakes he didn't want (and was now supposed to pay for), and she'd taken Ginryuu as a price. (He was definitely going back to retrieve it someday.) "About the Tomoyo in Nihon. She didn't tell me there were other things happening."

"Would you still have come on this journey, if you knew back then?"

Kurogane looked away. Probably not. "I swore to serve the princess. To protect her."

"And this is what she feels you must do, Kurogane. She sees you as the best candidate for this journey."

He had nothing to say to that but, "so she's not sorry about it."

Her smile was placid. "I'm afraid not."

"Damn it." It still came back to him feeling like he'd been discarded. Forgotten, now, too, him and Fai. The wizard would be glad that he'd been left behind while the kids cavorted around, so he didn't have to use his magic to protect them. What if it was years before they showed up? Already, some of Yasha's men had talked about being released from the army so they could spend more time with their wives and children than once every two weeks.

Kurogane hadn't thought about families and crap like that, but...

"I need to get stronger," he said. Strong enough to help Fai deal with the Ashura he had coming after him. "There's a way to regain the strength I lost, right?"

(Because none of his attempts had helped so far, and Kurogane was now weaker, with people (two within his immediate reach) he still needed to protect.)

"The seal is there so you can learn something, Kurogane."

"Learn what?" He needed to be stronger, couldn't protect people he cared about otherwise. Didn't Tomoyo know that?

She smiled. Fai played a short tune on the kokyu then, and Tomoyo's attention drifted over to him. She clapped her hands. "Oh, Fai, that was great! Do play more!"

The wizard turned and smiled at Tomoyo, played a longer piece, and she beamed, humming along.

Kurogane breathed out slowly. The conversation was closed for now; that much, he knew. But he had more questions than before he began, and no one to answer them. Fai wouldn't have (or give) answers, and neither would Tomoyo. It was a mistake for those two to meet, wasn't it? Both of them were among the best at hiding things from him. (Damn it.)

The idiot began to play one of those lullabies he'd hummed to Kurogane not so long ago. He couldn't help but listen to the familiar tune, and as Tomoyo began to sing the words to the song, Kurogane found himself relaxing by a notch.

There was a new home here, in Yama. It wasn't something that should have happened, because this wasn't his Tomoyo, he still had to return to Nihon, and Fai would still want to leave at some point. Yet, Kurogane couldn't fight the nagging feeling that he somehow belonged.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone's confused, Kurogane thinks of the musical instrument as a "kokyu". Fai thinks of it as a "fiddle". Hence the title. ;)
> 
> But yes, a lighter chapter to compensate for the depressing previous chapter. ;) Thoughts?


	7. Fiddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... we finally get to the fiddle. ;)

 

Firewood crackled. Tiny, glowing sparks rode on the rising hot draft from the campfire, and licking flame danced before their eyes, almost to the rhythm of the bright melody Fai had struck up on his kokyu. He tapped his foot to keep pace, closed his eyes to play, and Kurogane watched the way warm orange lit the other's face.

Fai was good.

In the same way he'd taken to the koto in the marketplace, the blond had learned to play the kokyu in the span of two weeks, now that they were increasingly getting nights off from the battlefield. Ashura's army had not made an appearance for five weeks; Yasha had been talked into reducing the nightly guard to an eighth of the army. Half the men had been released to the city—the womenfolk could use help tending to their fields, and the flood earlier this year meant that Yama couldn't afford to lose this second batch of crops.

Kurogane and Fai were staying on with the army, of course. Despite the higher chances of bumping into the kids more quickly should they show up in the city, there was also the slim possibility that they could land at the Moon Castle instead. Besides, Kurogane needed to get stronger, and the army valued his strength.

He was still having little success in regaining his lost power. The decrease wasn't enough to put him at a disadvantage against low-level soldiers like those they worked with, though Kurogane knew that he would have more difficulty facing someone like the Ashura of Yama, or perhaps even Yasha. The weakness unnerved him; he had grown used to having strength to fall back on, and to know that he had been capable of more... He needed much more than what he had right now if the person Fai was running from _(Ashura?)_  was as powerful as he imagined.

He wondered if his Tomoyo had heard the news of his failure, and whether she was disappointed. Probably. But he hadn't wanted to tell the Tomoyo here that he'd gone on a rampage because he'd thought  _Fai_  had died (that still struck a nerve; it was a weakness that he didn't want to expose).

So, Kurogane had disobeyed Tomoyo. He had lost strength, and he had to deal with it.

He was angry with her. Not so much for the seal she'd put on him, but for what she hadn't told him when she'd sent him on this journey. It had taken another Tomoyo to reveal that there was a greater purpose to him and Fai gallivanting around different worlds with a couple of kids, and it had taken his own senses to tell him that there had been someone or something watching their journey, until he and Fai were thrown into Yama and the spying had stopped.

Since they parted from Tomoyo, he'd begun to wonder how he'd spend his remaining time in this world. If the children came along months later, that was fine. But what if they only showed up a year later? Five years? He understood that time moved differently between worlds. (They'd been through an entire month of brick-laying in a desert world, talking to Yuuko at the start and end of it, and while they'd slogged for weeks, all she'd been up to in the meantime was wash her hair. That damn witch.)

Growing up, he'd thought he would do the same as his parents did—marry a priestess, take over his father's title, and be a good Lord of Suwa. Then his parents had died, Suwa had fallen, and he'd decided that he'd serve Tomoyo for the rest of his life.

Now... He had a wizard (who wouldn't do magic, who wouldn't acknowledge whatever was between them), he had Tomoyo (who wasn't the same one he'd started off knowing), and he had an undetermined period of time stretching out ahead of him.

_Snap!_

Kurogane blinked, jerked his eyes away from the fire. Fai was wearing a curious lopsided smile. He'd stopped playing the kokyu, instead holding his hand out—he'd snapped his fingers to break Kurogane from his thoughts. The space around the fire was empty, now. The rest of the soldiers had retired for the night, and there were only one or two campfires left burning. Had he been thinking for that long?

Fai tipped his head to the side, looked towards the forest.  _Are we going?_

He inhaled deeply and nodded. Over the past two weeks, he'd been leaving their tent at night to train by himself out in the forest, where there would be minimal distraction and liability. There was the option of sparring together with the soldiers in an attempt to polish his skills, of course, but a knife was only as sharp as its whetstone was abrasive. And he couldn't unleash attacks that would most definitely kill them all.

Kurogane had taken to wearing himself out on his energy-based attacks in the distant forest, certain that he would be able to deepen his energy pool that way. The wizard had found out about his nightly trips three nights into the new routine. Kurogane didn't really have any way of explaining his objectives, so he allowed Fai to tag along on those trips with his kokyu. Fai sometimes helped with his training.

He stood and stretched, joints popping, and Fai set his things down by Kurogane's feet. As they'd done for the past few nights, the wizard fetched water from one of the wells around the camp, dumped it onto flickering flames.

The fire went out with a great, smoking hiss. Fai stepped through the resulting cloud of steam then, stopped by Kurogane, and ruffled his hair. He growled, swatted the blond away. "Stop that, idiot."

Fai skipped out of his reach, bright grin playing on his lips like a silent forest nymph, and Kurogane had a moment to feel torn. It seemed, sometimes, that Fai was enjoying himself far too much with stupid things like pranks. These were times when he was real, and it was irrelevant enough, harmless enough that Kurogane allowed it to happen. Had the wizard not done this in his childhood?

Kurogane didn't know, so he decided that he'd put up with the idiot's snickering to try and unravel him further.

* * *

In the shared silence of their trek, Fai slid his fingers along the strings of his fiddle, plucked at them so the echoing notes warbled away into the night. Kurogane sometimes talked to him. Sometimes, Fai conducted his own monologue. Sometimes they had a conversation, where Fai and Kurogane would alternate lines, and neither was any the wiser as to what the other said.

It was funny, though, and Fai had glimpsed the smile lingering on Kurogane's mouth on more than one occasion, when they pretended to understand one another, listened to the other's contributions, and continued talking as if the other had brought up a point worth considering.

When they'd temporarily fallen out of range of Mokona's translation range two worlds ago, Fai had thought he'd suffer in a world where he couldn't understand Kurogane.

In Yama, he discovered how very wrong he had been.

The ninja had been especially accommodating in this world. Not that Fai would encourage it, of course, since they were still pawns playing for different masters, but Kurogane's patience had been a welcome change. Where he would try to pry into Fai's motivations and history and thoughts before, he could only ask the simplest questions now. Where Fai had been filled with guilt, he could now confess, even if the man he spoke to could not understand a word. Where he thought he'd be bored senseless, he'd found other tools and methods to occupy himself with, and succeeded in annoying Kurogane, besides.

In Yama, Fai hid in plain sight, found comfort in his new tattoo (definitely not Kurogane), and worried about the children.

They broke through the boundary of the forest after an hour of strange conversations and amused smiles, into a large area of charred ground and debris. It was just by the spot they'd used as a lookout during the storm—an area of low ground so the soldiers back at camp would not be able to discern any stray sounds or bursts of light.

Kurogane drew his sword; Fai leaped away from him, twanged a note on his fiddle. Gleaming silver flashed; he arched backwards so Souhi cut bare inches above his face, and twanged three notes. This began their spar.

Fai had fashioned a sling for his fiddle in the week he'd bought it. The sling proved useful when he wanted to stand and play at the same time, and now that he had willingly engaged himself in a near-lethal fight, he could play and dodge Kurogane's attacks while the sling held the fiddle snug against his body. The music served to drive the ninja impatient; it was also a challenge that Fai had set for himself, to be able to play a song nonstop while he evaded being struck.

It had taken a significant amount of concentration to do both at the same time, back when he wasn't as familiar with the fiddle. But, as the hours wore on, and as Fai grew familiar with the fingering and voices of the instrument, he succeeded in playing tunes of increasingly complex melodies.

Kurogane, to Fai's (rather childish) dismay, was not impressed.

He was in the middle of a Celesian folk song when Kurogane swung wide with his sword, energy flowing through Souhi to lash out in a great arc. Fai dodged that easily—he'd seen that attack countless times by now—and twisted to put himself in Kurogane's unprotected spot. The ninja whirled around on him, attacked again, and Fai leaped sideways, slipped behind a tree when Kurogane conjured a whirlwind around himself, one that expanded outwards from him and shredded anything it touched.

In the gusting, cutting winds that died down amongst the trees, Fai had to turn the fiddle towards himself to protect its strings. Kurogane yelled at him; he stepped out from behind the tree trunk, waved his bow cheerily.

On a whim, Fai wondered if Kurogane had experienced music as it was meant to be played—with magic threaded through the notes so one could feel it, could taste the crisp spring air and hear the gurgle of water, could see the swoop and dart of swallows in the air. Music had different purposes on Celes; people had used it to enchant, to seduce, to entertain. Fai had grown up listening to some of the very best court musicians that Ashura had employed. To think that the people around him had never known anything like that...

It was one thing to reveal his aptitude for music to the children, and another where Kurogane was concerned. Kurogane had seen him on the piano. Fai didn't think the warrior had been any sort of impressed, however. (He shouldn't be, even if Fai wanted to preen, because the music he could weave far surpassed any of his playing that Kurogane had ever heard.)

"Kuro-sir," he said, swerving sideways to avoid a silver slash. "Do you think you'd like to hear some  _real_  music?"

The ninja did not reply. Instead, he charged Fai down, readying himself for another powerful blast.

"I can't play it tonight, of course. I'll need some of those paper spells I did at Tomoyo's place, but they're back at the camp." Kurogane's ears pricked when he heard the familiar name. Fai did not change his tone or expression, however, so the other wasn't concerned. He bared his teeth, made a diagonal slash that had energy screaming from his blade. Fai skipped away. "I'll take that as a  _yes_. You'll always be a barbarian unless you learn to appreciate things like that."

Kurogane did not respond. Fai laughed at his own joke, and the night continued to drag by. Perhaps he'd share his music with Kurogane tomorrow.

* * *

Big Doggy saw the skinny blond man eventually, when he was out on a walk with Little Kitty and Little Doggy. (Big Kitty had elected to stay home. He always did.) He recognized the man from a distance and growled. That was the very person who posed a threat to all of them. If he could turn Big Doggy into a human, did he also do the same to Little Kitty and Little Doggy?

But the man did not approach them. All he did was sit on a bench and read the papers, cup of drink next to him. Big Doggy made sure to keep his charges close, staying in one spot to watch the stranger while Little Kitty tumbled Little Doggy over in the grass. They rolled around; Big Doggy kept one ear on them and the other on the human.

Neither of them moved for some time. The sun was setting, and as Big Doggy thought about leaving, the blond man folded his papers and smiled right across the wide field at Big Doggy. Surprised and horrified, Big Doggy barked at Little Kitty and Little Doggy. They weren't safe here.

The blond did not follow them, to Big Doggy's relief. He ushered the kitten and puppy back home, flicked his tail in irritation when Big Kitty woke from his nap, stretched, and stalked forward, standing on his hind legs to pet Big Doggy on the head like his mistress sometimes did. Oddly enough, Big Kitty smelled like coffee.

("That damn cat is the guy," Kurogane deduced with a frown, pointing between Big Kitty and the man. "Of course you'd curse all of us into huma— animals. Damn mage."

Fai merely shrugged and smiled, dark eyes gleaming.)

* * *

The campfires the next night were a little quieter—more men had departed for the city earlier in the day. Kurogane hadn't liked the idea of letting soldiers go this soon, though with the peace on the Moon Castle and the need for manpower back on the fields of Yama, he was hardly in a position to argue his case. Besides, this wasn't Nihon.

He stared into the yellow depths of the fire, half-listening to the men around him and half to Fai's playing. (The idiot had been keeping a low profile with his music in the camp. It was only when he played during their nightly training that Kurogane really got an idea of how much he'd improved.)

Before Fai broke him from his thoughts the previous night, he'd been thinking about their future in Yama. He'd thought about it through today, too, though whenever he'd tried to ask the wizard what he thought, all the blond did was shrug and mince away. That he was even considering their future in this place was a surprise in itself, but they'd been here three and a half months now, they were doing well (Fai hadn't encountered Crooked Nose recently), and Kurogane was ready for a new goal to work towards, one that wasn't about them trying to survive and adapt to this new world.

If Fai wasn't going to help, was just going to keep on pretending, then, well, maybe Kurogane could convince him somehow.

(He knew there was something more between them. It was in the way Fai smiled at him these days, relaxed and content, like how he'd smiled during rare moments in Outo. It was in the way Fai leaned into him sometimes, eased into his space when he was tired, the way he woke to find the idiot playing with his hair across the inches between their cots, sleepy-eyed and smiling in thinly-veiled amusement. It was in the way Fai squeezed into his cot after a nightmare, huddled into himself but still _there_ , it was in the way they stayed together just a little longer after they'd had sex.)

(Three months was a long time.)

Kurogane glanced up at the wizard, a question on his tongue when he saw the half-lidded expression the other wore, the not-so-subtle enjoyment that Fai found in his music. The question faded away, replaced by a thick yearning he felt somewhere between his chest and his gut, and he swallowed.

When Fai opened his eyes again, his smile was slow and lazy. Firelight danced in his gaze; his fingers slid along the fiddle, and Kurogane felt the most curious sense of déjà vu, the tickle of a portent he didn't recognize. It felt as if they'd met before and Fai had been like this. It felt as if they would see each other in the future, and Fai would be this trusting, this comfortable. It felt like he'd glimpsed the great fabric of destiny somehow, saw Fai in it, and then lost sight of it altogether.

"Hey," he said.

Fai tilted his head. His smile broadened. His wispy hair glinted orange-gold.

What did a person do when something fragile and precious and intangible was sitting within his reach, and he didn't know how he should capture it, or even try to at all? Kurogane thought his mother would have known, Tomoyo would have known, but neither of them was around to answer his question. He knew he'd been clumsy before (an impulsive kiss in a car, an interrupted one in a dim bathroom), and Fai had run because of it. He didn't want to make the same mistake.

"Hey," he said again.

Fai didn't stop in his playing. He glanced around the campfire, at the two soldiers who remained singing drunkenly, and shifted to sit closer. "Hey," he echoed quietly, his intonation a little off and his pronunciation fuzzy around the edges.

Kurogane snorted, reached up to cuff him lightly on the chin. "You're an idiot."

"Idiot," Fai repeated. He grinned, leaned over, and nudged Kurogane with his elbow. "Hey, idiot."

Kurogane glared and smacked him over the head. Fai stopped playing abruptly, clutched his head, and his hurt-puppy look would have been very believable if Kurogane didn't know what an actor he was. "Of all the words you can learn, you only learn the useless ones," he muttered.

"You don't hit your wife like that," one of the drunken soldiers said across the campfire.

"Yeh, 'e's pretteh," the other slurred. "Don' 'urt ye wife'r I'll want 'er fer meself."

"He's not my wife!" Kurogane shot back, brow furrowed. "He isn't even a damn woman!"

"Sharp chin like that, pretty. I'd want that for a wife."

"Tap 'er," the other said, slumped into his friend. "Ben' 'er o'er."

"Get lost, the two of you," Kurogane snapped, offended on the idiot's behalf. They would've been far more afraid of Fai had they been sober. The wizard watched on in amusement, seemingly clueless, if it weren't for the fact that he fluttered his lashes up at Kurogane, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "And you," he muttered, "are the worst idiot."

Fai smiled and started on another tune.

Kurogane was toying with the idea of leaving for practice early when distant shouts drifted over from the direction of the teleportation site. The drunken soldiers looked over their shoulders muzzily; he watched as one of the soldiers (who'd been stationed at the camp, judging from his scant armor) stumbled into sight. "King Yasha! Generals! Officers!" he shouted. "Terrible news from the Moon Castle!"

Kurogane glanced at Fai, who had stopped playing in concern. He got to his feet, beckoned for the wizard to follow.

By the time they jogged lightly over, there was a sizable crowd around the messenger—mostly soldiers, with a couple other officers holding up torches to cast some light on the men. Low voices clamored with questions; Kurogane stayed on the edge of the group, looking over their heads at the pale, wide-eyed man.

"Gone?" someone asked. "How could this be?"

"They didn't return, I told you," the messenger said. "Only Sasuke did, and his face was a mess! I couldn't recognize him at first!"

"We need to head up there and fight!"

"How could this happen? I thought Ashura's army admitted defeat!"

"We can't head up, the portal's closed now."

"We shouldn't have let so many men go, we need all of them back. How are we going to win like this? Those bastards!"

He looked to Fai; the wizard pointed up at the dark shadow of the Moon Castle in the sky, raised his eyebrows. Kurgane nodded. Fai winced.

It wasn't long before an emergency council was assembled. The officers and generals gathered in Yasha's tent were mostly still armored; one had rushed over in the middle of a bath, dressed haphazardly, and another looked like he'd been asleep. Yasha, as always, was calm and ready, and unfazed by the news. (Kurogane sometimes wondered about the man—he was never weary, and he never let slip any sign of being tired of the war.)

"We shall show up in full force tomorrow," Yasha said.

"We have to send for the soldiers who've gone back to the city," another officer added.

"No." Kurogane looked straight at his employer, paying little heed to the exclamations of surprise around him. "It's too risky. We don't know what traps Ashura's army have laid tonight. You'll be making a big mistake if you send all your men in tomorrow."

"He's right." Yasha looked to his other men for a second opinion. They murmured in discussion.

"What about the soldier who made it back? We can't fight without that information," Crooked Nose said.

"Send for him." Yasha looked to one of the officers by the tent exit.

They waited in terse silence while the officer rushed out. He made it back two minutes later, breathing hard, desperation etched into his face. "He's dead, King Yasha! The soldier Sasuke died from severe injuries."

"Type of injury?"

"Burns."

Fai looked to Kurogane. He kept his face straight, returned his attention to Yasha. "Without knowing if they've used mere fire or have procured explosives, we can't put all our men on the field. We could be transported right into a trap."

"What do you suggest?" Yasha's expression was severe, but not condemning in any way.

"Send a mixed platoon. Soldiers you're sure will report back to you alive, and some you can stand to lose."

There was a bit of protest at his words, but for the most part, the officers agreed. Yasha nodded. "Who do you suggest?"

"I'll go. Same with this guy here." Kurogane nodded towards Fai. "It's a dangerous mission, so I'll suggest either volunteers or your best men."

The meeting extended long into the night with discussions of various strategies, potential disasters and retreat options. By the time they retired to their tent, Kurogane was ready for his nightly training. It would help stretch his muscles and temper his reflexes for tomorrow. Mostly, he'd volunteered to join the fray because he needed a challenge, one that would help regain the strength he lost to Tomoyo's curse (were its effects permanent? Was there a limit on his strength now?) and Fai never went on the offensive during his training.

"Kuro-pai?" Fai cocked his head and raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

He sighed, picked up the drawing stick, drew quick sketches to illustrate the important parts of the discussion with Yasha. The wizard nodded through his miming. By the end of it, Fai was standing up and stretching. He pointed at Souhi, then the tent exit.  _Are we going tonight?_

"Yeah. You can stay if you want." Kurogane pointed between Fai, his cot, and the exit, raised his eyebrows. Fai answered by setting his fiddle back into its sling. He turned away to grab something from beneath his cot, though the angle of his back made it impossible for Kurogane to see what it was. (He wondered, for a split second, if it was oil the wizard thought to bring along; a whisper of heat slid down his spine.)

They headed out shortly after, tramping through the thick undergrowth to his training grounds. The campgrounds had been quiet with tension tonight; the soldiers had gone to sleep early to prepare for the battle tomorrow, certain that they were now at a great disadvantage. (And they were, with an eighth of the army left at camp. Messengers had gone back to the village to notify the released soldiers of their return; three-quarters of their original manpower were estimated to be ready by the next sunset.)

They passed through parts of forest where he'd brought Fai on several occasions so the other could talk, or so Kurogane could yell at him for being an idiot without the rest of the camp hearing why. Ever since he'd grown comfortable in his place here, Fai had tried to pull pranks on the generals, things like sneaking bits of raw fish beneath their tent flaps. Kurogane had stopped him just in time on a number of occasions—it did not make him any more fond of the idiot.

They made detours around thicker copses of trees, where Fai had plucked at random plants and put them into his mouth (Kurogane had been tempted to snatch them out of his hands). Thankfully, nothing severe had befallen the blond aside from an awful stomachache that only happened once. The wizard never explained why he did that, so Kurogane had chalked it down to the man being an idiot like he usually was.

When they finally reached the sparring grounds, with furrows and gashes marking the surrounding trees and dirt, Kurogane turned to Fai. The blond lifted his brows, plucked at the strings of his kokyu, dark eyes ever watchful. Souhi sang out of its sheath; Fai twisted clear of its trajectory to put some distance between them. He grinned. Kurogane smirked, and their dance began.

* * *

It was when he began to wind down, sinking back into kata and slow strokes and allowing his gathered energy to dissipate that Fai wandered back out of the forest. The kokyu was nestled against him; he smiled at Kurogane, came to stand a few feet away, tapping his bow against his leg. For all the sweat that he'd worked up, the wizard seemed none the worse for wear. In fact, Fai was almost glowing with a quiet kind of anticipation.

"Played enough?" he asked, nodding towards the instrument.

Fai smiled one of his secretive smiles and blabbered something. He waved to dispel Kurogane's attention, walked around to examine the new ruts tonight's attacks had driven through the uneven ground.

"Not like you haven't seen those before," Kurogane said. He sheathed Souhi, closed his eyes and went through some cycles of breathing exercises. When he opened them, Fai was back in front of him, watching him expectantly. "What?"

Fai said something else, raised his bow back to the kokyu. Kurogane lifted an eyebrow—this was not part of their routine.

And then Fai played.

It was nothing he'd ever heard before, this new music. The notes were similar to the kokyu, mellow and nasally and warbling. Yet, they were also lingering, hazier than what he'd grown used to, and the music was sweet, light, like water to a parched man. They started off slow, easy; Fai watched him through hooded eyes, a smile haunting his mouth, and Kurogane felt himself relax.

The music reminded him of peaceful times. As soon as he'd thought that, he smelled the faint sweetness of honeysuckle, the distinct presence of jasmine, and he saw... He saw Tomoyo's gardens in Nihon, pebbled pathways through lush, low bushes of bright red hibiscus that slowly faded into shades of chrysanthemums—white, yellow, red. The gardens stretched out in front of him, soft-lit like they were on cloudy days, so real he could almost reach out to pluck a flower swaying in the breeze.

Fai was still playing in front of him, in this garden they weren't supposed to be in. How—?

Kurogane opened his mouth, on the verge of a question, and Fai's tune changed. It quickened, it turned loud, sung straight into his chest, and the notes were powerful. They filled him with strength. The air around him shifted; he could taste the dirt of a battlefield, hear the cries of men.

The music grew louder. Instead of a single note, Fai dragged his bow sharply across the strings, once, twice, thrice, and that rhythm continued to sound even as he returned to playing a melody. Kurogane blinked. There was only one instrument—Fai had made it sound like two, then three, when he suddenly switched to high notes, and the melody and rhythm both continued when his fingers were clearly elsewhere on the strings. Then, lower notes, like the pounding of drums, and the scene around them shifted, into dust storms and charging men.

Fai was playing all the parts of a quartet.

Kurogane stared, frozen, because this was not just the wizard doing what was physically impossible; this was him weaving his magic into song.

There had been music in Nihon, orchestras in the palace that Kurogane had grown used to, that he hadn't appreciated because he'd taken things like music for granted. Music wasn't really his thing, not when it was grand and imposing and played to impress. But this—this he'd never witnessed before. Nihon had magic in the form of priestesses and dreamseers, not wizards who manipulated song so he could smell, could almost touch and taste the visions they conjured.

Right now, he could smell the coppery blood from the battlefield, hear the pain-drenched shouts of men he'd felled, feel the insistent victory straining to burst from his ribs.

 _Why?_  he wanted to ask. He dragged his gaze away from the chaos of battle, locking it onto Fai, who was hazy-eyed and looking so satisfied that Kurogane would have stalked over and wiped the smile off his face, were he not rooted to the spot.

Muscles twitched in his jaw, in his fingers, and at the mere movement, the air shifted once more.

The battlefield vaporized; the fullness in his chest vanished, leaving an empty gap, and Fai's melody melted into slow honey that tickled and teased. There was only a single string of notes remaining. He slid the bow to and fro, wrist movement fluid, slender fingers strong, and Kurogane was relaxed once more, calm.

The notes dragged slow, like nails on his back, and the catch in his breath was no coincidence. Fai picked up a second accompanying melody, one that harmonized with the first, and the music was rich, slow, enticing. His throat turned dry. Kurogane would have shaken the idiot for pulling this on him, except he couldn't think past the hot, tight hunger in his veins. His nostrils flared; he gulped, caught the faintest trace of cinnamon in the air.

The scent stuck in his throat—he  _wanted_ —and he would have moved forward, grabbed Fai, if it weren't for the fact that he was still immobile, half his mind intact and the other swamped with desire.

As suddenly as Fai pulled this on him, the magic vanished, broken into thin shards that were almost tangible in the air around him.

Kurogane gasped for breath.

Fai lowered his bow and smiled, glancing away. He shoved a hand into one of his hidden pockets and pulled out some sheets. Some he tucked beneath his arm, though he held one in front of himself, brushed a finger against an empty square surrounded by runes. The runes glowed blue briefly; Fai folded the sheet into a bird, blew on it, watched as it fluttered into the air.

It was a long moment before Kurogane could move. Fai was in the middle of his third sheet when Kurogane stalked up to him, forehead creased. "Why did you do that?"

The idiot said something in his lilting language, ending on a lifting note. He tipped his head sideways. Kurogane frowned deeper. Fai could've meant  _you don't like it?_  or  _you can't tell?_  or something completely irrelevant, for all he knew.

"Tch." He grabbed Fai's wrist, mimicked drawing in the air. "Ashura?"

Fai tensed minutely; he felt it in the twitch of the idiot's arm. He waved the sheets at Kurogane, glanced up at the birds fluttering about the training grounds. To cement his point, Fai waved, dismissive, then held his hand steady, finger and thumb a hair's breadth apart to show that it wasn't very much magic at all.

Kurogane's frown did not abate. "You've spent this entire time refusing to use your magic. Why this now?"

The wizard blinked at him, wriggled his arm. Kurogane released it; Fai went back to folding his paper birds. These were the spells Fai had prepared at Tomoyo's the same afternoon he bought the kokyu. Had the idiot planned it back then, or was this something he did on impulse? Why hadn't he done something like this when he was with the kids? Kurogane was certain that the princess and the boy would have loved the experience.

"Hey."

Fai looked back at him, propped his chin in his palm and pretended to look bored.

"You can't be doing this just because you're bored." Kurogane watched the other suspiciously. When Fai made no attempt to explain himself further, he tapped an impatient finger on the round, leathery body of the kokyu. "Sakura and Syaoran would have liked to watch this."

Fai's eyebrows shot up at the mention of those names. He opened his mouth, wonderment in his eyes, then seemed to realize what Kurogane was talking about. His next smile was a little more forced. "Idiot," Fai said.

Kurogane glared at him. "You're the idiot."

Whatever it was, he was certain that Fai would not be doing that performance again. It had been special, Kurogane thought as Fai watched his paper birds flutter in the sky above them. Why the wizard had chosen to share those three feelings, he didn't know.

He didn't think he could listen to Fai play at the campfire and not remember how much more that music could be, either. Was this how he felt each time he played? How frustrating was it to wield your tools without revealing your true ability?

How much else was Fai hiding?

Kurogane stepped closer, caught Fai's hand, touching the calloused, rough patches of the other's fingertips. Fai drew a sharp breath, did not meet his eyes.

If he didn't look at Kurogane, then he could pretend this wasn't happening. Kurogane understood that. Right now, it didn't matter if Fai refused to acknowledge this, however. He'd watched that guy long enough to learn that the idiot could be stubborn, could be worn down if he had the patience to wait.

So, Kurogane brought that pale hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to warm, firm palm. Fai tensed; he released that hand, removed himself to the edge of the training grounds. "Do you think they'll take long?" he called.

Fai's laugh was a little forced. He turned and smiled brittle-bright at Kurogane, waved him off with a quick string of words.

Kurogane sighed, swallowed his disappointment. He had still been hoping, after all.

The forest was quiet around them, now, and when Fai eventually returned to his side, his light chatter ending off with a question, Kurogane responded in kind. It was nice to be friends with the idiot, even if they couldn't understand each other, and even if Fai was still hiding, even now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. If you ever wondered about Fai's musical abilities, there's a part of them. ;) I will not apologize for Sasuke's unfortunate cameo. ;)
> 
>  **Question, though:** After Yama, should Fai continue to refer to everyone with his own suffixes? I introduced new ones for the language barrier here, and it would make sense that what Fai says is different from what the rest of them hear... Thoughts? For subsequent arcs, would you rather see Fai continuing to use his Celesian/Valerian suffixes when the narration is from his POV?


	8. Payback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we get down to srs bzns.

 

Kurogane took a deep breath, trying to dispel the press of soldiers around him. They were worried—that much was obvious. It was in the way the men muttered lowly amongst themselves, and the way they straightened their shoulders, shuffled their feet and glanced towards Yasha, who stood on the outer boundaries of the transportation grounds. Their leader was unruffled, had been ever since the day Kurogane first set eyes on him.

Tonight, more than half the men going to the Moon Castle would probably perish.

It wasn't a very promising thought. Before Yama, it had been a long time since he'd had so many comrades die around him, though he wasn't in the mood to be concerned about these ones. All he really wanted was some sign of the kids, and for the idiot blond beside him to come out of the frenzy alive.

The ground beneath them glowed white. Kurogane turned to Fai and said, "You're an idiot."

Fai grinned at him. "Shut up," he said, another of the stupid phrases he'd picked up.

Then they were disintegrating and flying through a great distance, lost to sound.

Kurogane landed amidst chaos. Smoke was rising on every side. He fought the nausea roiling in his stomach, threw an arm up to shield against the blast that came from his left. Shards of rock flew at him, scraped trails of blood across his face, embedded in his forearm. He screwed his eyes shut and dropped to the ground, felt around for Fai. Explosives.

There was yelling all around, screams of agony, and more blasts sending shock waves rippling through the air. Bodies fell against him.  _Damn it._  He cracked his eyes open and got a face full of dust for his efforts. Kurogane coughed, reached his senses out for indications of life around him. One to his right, a few around him, some further off. Most of the platoon was gone.

He swore. How did it come to this?

A hand curled around his ankle. "Kuro-pai."

"Idiot," he hissed, immeasurably relieved. He lifted his head slightly, glanced to his right to find Fai somewhere by his feet, covered in red dust and blood, but otherwise smiling brightly. Still alive. "Don't move."

There were sounds of fighting and shouting around, but no more explosions. A few men groaned around them. To take out so many of Yasha's men the instant they'd arrived, in the same fashion they'd demolished Ashura's troops, meant that there were explosives involved. They had to have been buried underground the night before, so they were set off the instant Yasha's soldiers arrived.

Were there still more of them waiting to detonate? Would Ashura's soldiers try to destroy the corpses, or would they leave them alone? He would be a walking target if he stood up now.

Kurogane slowly lifted his head, squinting through the settling dust and over the piles of soldiers and small fires. How much of the battlefield had been buried with explosives? Ashura's troops would know, wouldn't they? They would avoid their own traps, and in doing so, reveal their locations.

More screams rent the air. Another explosion rang in his ears. Kurogane squeezed his eyes shut, grit his teeth. Fai was fine. They were alive, and they were going to get out of this mess.

Agonized moans and the low murmur of the enemy's troops remained. When Kurogane looked around, he saw the tips of small fires flickering past the bodies surrounding them. Fai looked at him, expression devoid of any traces of amusement. Kurogane glanced towards where the front lines had been before; there was only the dark, shifting mass of Ashura's men now.

"I'll stop them," he said. He pointed at Fai, then at the ground. "You stay down."

With a great heave, Kurogane pushed the writhing soldiers off himself, stood up on blood-slicked ground. In the distance, about twenty yards away, the soldiers looked toward him. Some brought their bows up, arrows nocked. Kurogane drew Souhi out. From the corner of his eye, he saw Fai frown at the archers.

"Stay down," he repeated. Fai scrambled to his feet, pulling his bow along. "You idiot."

"Idiot," Fai shot back, dark eyes fixed on the enemy. He continued with a low string of words that held no space for argument; Kurogane snorted.

Ashura lifted a hand to stop the archers. With a single command and two generals, the trio made their way forward on their dragon-lizard steeds, picking a route that Kurogane pinpointed with recognizable landmarks. The king of Shura paused five yards away from them, at the edge of the dismembered, bloody bodies.

"Where's your king?" Ashura glanced between them.

"Not here." Kurogane paused to let the words sink in. "Funny you're asking that after you blew our soldiers up."

The expression on Ashura's face was closed, and very slightly sorrowful. "This has to end."

"So end it."

"It's not that easy," came the sharp reply.

"I'll end it right now," Kurogane said, interest prickling along his skin. This was a chance he didn't often get, wouldn't get again when the rest of the soldiers were present. "I'll take the three of you on."

"My fight is not with you."

"You just want to end this, don't you?" Without another warning, he forced energy into his blade, sent it screaming out in a horizontal spiral towards Ashura. " _Tenma shoryuu sen!_ "

Ashura's eyes narrowed. Silver flashed, and a great wall of orange flame roared towards Kurogane, nullifying his attack. Fire continued to surge out at him, and he was forced to counter with an icy gale of wind, one that sent the attack back towards their enemies. One of Ashura's generals flung a giant boomerang at the wind, slicing through it, and Kurogane growled, leaped away to avoid the boomerang. If he had more power—

Fai drew his bow next to Kurogane; he stepped in front of the blond.  _My fight._

"Pass the message on to your king," Ashura called, turning back towards the waiting troops. "I will meet him on the battlefield."

Kurogane swore. He needed this practice. It was painfully obvious, when even Ashura's generals could stop his attacks, that he wasn't fighting at his original strength, could not fight well enough to protect the people he cared about if he had to. "You aren't getting away so easily," he snarled.

He stepped over the twitching bodies of Yasha's men, so he was on the edge of the path the other king had taken. With another surge of energy through Souhi, he aimed a bolt of lightning at the retreating trio.

Several things happened at once. Ashura turned, dark eyes fierce, and orange fire streaked out of the raised sword. It wound around Kurogane's lightning instead of stopping it, heading for him at incredible speed. He swore, leaped back—it was a counter to strike him right back instead of attempting a defense. One of Ashura's generals leaped forward to take the brunt of the lightning.

He could smell burning hair even from this distance. The man fell and lay in a blackened heap at the feet of Ashura's mount, and all the king of Shura did was look at the fallen general, who twitched and groaned. He wasn't dead yet. Kurogane's attack wasn't powerful enough to kill him; he wasn't sure if he was glad about it, because another death would decrease his strength yet again. Was this part of Tomoyo's plan? To cripple him in battle?

The betrayal that roared in his chest was ugly and black, and he growled, concentrated more power into his blade. Was Tomoyo watching? Did she know how she had weakened him?

Kurogane brought his sword down in a sweeping arc. The long, sinuous dragon that emerged was a glowing red mass of energy flying across rusty battleground, writhing unpredictably. This time, Ashura sent a great many streams of fire out, not unlike Seishirou's tar-like projectiles, and Kurogane was forced to leap back as the fire missed him by narrow inches, singeing the hair on his skin. Other streams pierced his attack and weakened it, slowed it down so Ashura and the remaining general could dodge with seconds to spare.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, the blaze and burning hair were stirring memories, things he had no business remembering right now. He could hear the inhuman roar of oni, the screams of innocents as Suwa fell. Kurogane shook the thoughts away. Fai was alive. Fai was behind him, protected, and he was fine. Safe.

He charged forward, needing to win, needing to prove to himself that he could still land a hit on an opponent like Ashura. If he couldn't even damage this one, what more the one coming after Fai?

Two consecutive blasts loosed from his blade. Ashura's eyes narrowed; the rest of the army was swarming up to protect their king, and the remaining general sent his boomerang flying out again. It shattered mere feet into one of Kurogane's dragons.

Ashura called for the soldiers to fall back, called for arrows.

The sudden volley wasn't what he'd been expecting. He cut them down, twisted on his feet to cover his flanks, and when Ashura sent another wall of fire at him, Kurogane was distracted.

An arrow grazed his side; another tore into the leather around his arm. Pain throbbed in his muscles; he hadn't time to care, instead slicing through the fire with another of his sweeping attacks.

"Kuro—!"

Fai sprinted up behind him, concern written through his eyes, bow in one hand.

But Ashura was getting away— _damn that king_ —and Kurogane's arm was hurting like a giant spider had bitten it. He took another step towards the retreating army. Fai's hand landed on his shoulder, restraining him, and Kurogane was tempted to shake it off. He did not.

"Kuro-pai," Fai said quietly, applying more pressure on his shoulder. He said a few words, pointed back towards Yasha's army.

He wasn't in the right state of mind to figure what the other meant, so he followed mutely along, rage bubbling in his gut. He was angry at himself, at Tomoyo, at Ashura. He wasn't strong enough to bring the king down, the Ashura Fai wasn't even afraid of.

How could Tomoyo reduce him to a worthless husk of a warrior?

Fai sat him down among the bodies of their platoon, checked him over. He tapped the arrow still buried in Kurogane's arm, and the pain that shot through his nerves was enough to shock a curse from his throat. Kurogane glared, brought back to the present. Fai smiled grimly, left him to forage about the bodies for their emergency supply cart.

He returned with a handful of miserable supplies—the cart, too, had been blown apart, though it seemed that Fai had found a little ceramic bottle of spirits and a swathe of bandages. The wizard set those down next to him, before crouching next to his arm. He pulled a dagger out.

"I know how to dress my wounds," Kurogane said, turning his injury away from Fai when the other reached for his arm. (Blood trickled warm and wet down his skin, and he could hardly feel it for the pain that throbbed in his flesh.) "Don't bother."

Fai pursed his lips, frowned, made a grab for his arm. Kurogane pulled it further away. The wizard leaned forward; he swatted at him.

"No."

"Idiot," Fai said, and climbed into his lap.

Kurogane stilled. Fai wasn't looking at him when he doused the dagger with alcohol, unbuckled the armor around Kurogane's arm, and slid it slowly away from the injury. The wound wasn't all that gory close-up (he'd had worse), though he hissed all the same when Fai poured alcohol over where the arrowhead had embedded in his flesh. He bit a curse down, grit his teeth and scanned the battlefield when Fai cut the arrow out of his arm, breaking skin and muscle both.

When the arrow and armor were finally set down, Fai propped his arm up, poured more alcohol into the wound. Heat seared into his flesh. "Fuck," Kurogane muttered.

The wizard smiled and patted him lightly on the head. Kurogane glared, would have punched the man had they been in any other situation. Fai pressed a wad of bandages over the wound, tied it tight around his arm to stem the blood flow.

Kurogane was very reluctant to thank him. He'd almost got it out of his mouth when the wizard mimed the tent (forearms and hands meeting in a roof above his head), shampooing his hair, and pointed at the remaining medical supplies.  _More treatment in the tent after we bathe._

"Tch. Whatever." He glanced away.

Fai grinned then. He got to his feet, took the bandages and almost-empty bottle of spirits and began wandering around in search of survivors. Kurogane watched as the wizard made a beeline for the soldier with the strongest life force.

It shouldn't have caught him off guard, with the idiot hiding as much as he did, but Kurogane was surprised anyway to discover that Fai could sense people as well as he could. What sort of training had he received to hone those senses? Or did his magic tell him, and that was that?

The wizard pulled the first soldier out, tied bandages to stop the blood flow from bloodied limbs, and dragged him over to Kurogane. "Kuro-min," he chided, lifting a golden brow, pointing at the next soldier with the highest chances of survival.

Kurogane sighed, hauled himself to his feet. He supposed they had to have survivors to show for their work today, at least.

* * *

The officers and generals had not been happy with the number of survivors they'd brought back with them. Granted, Kurogane could appreciate Fai's foresight in rescuing some of the men—it would have been suspicious if they'd returned with minimal injuries, and no one else had lived. Morale amongst the soldiers was low. Kurogane pointed out that they'd stayed the entire course of the original battle duration, which meant that Ashura's troops had not the chance to plant more explosives.

It was cold comfort. He sat with Fai in Yasha's meeting tent, blood crusted over their shallower injuries. They (or rather, Kurogane) pointed out the locations that were cleared of explosives and suggested the next plan of attack, reassured the officers that they would not be transported into a trap the next night. This round of discussion dragged on longer than the previous night's had; the officers were starting to panic, now. Kurogane didn't blame them. He did wish he'd had a warm bath, though; everyone else in the tent was clean and freshly dressed.

When he finally sank into his cot that night, hair wet and clothed in light sleeping garments, Fai hovered about him, dabbed an alcohol-soaked cloth to his deeper wounds. Fai didn't stay long, however. He'd almost made it out of the tent when Kurogane stopped him.

"Where're you going?"

The wizard smiled, waved to show that he needn't bother, and slipped out. Kurogane wasn't worried about the idiot at this point, so he tended to himself and Souhi, fell into a light doze, arm throbbing and body aching with the numerous superficial scrapes that he was glad Fai had not bothered him about.

He dreamed about the wood fires in Shirasagi again, and the cookfires his mother sometimes checked on, smiling face tipped in close to sniff at delicious broth.

When he felt a warm hand brush across his forehead, Kurogane stirred lightly, thinking it was part of his dream, the one where his mother would run her fingers through his hair and press her smooth cheek to his. He dreamed that she was smiling, smelling of lavender and pine soap, and leaned into that touch.

Cloth kissed his skin, pulled gently away. Calloused hands eased him onto his back.

He startled awake, pulse tripping into a race.

"Shh." Fai was seated on the edge of his cot, bowl of something in one hand. The other was peeling his shirtsleeve off his arm.

"What?" The word tangled around his tongue.

Fai pressed a finger to his lips, set the bowl next to him on the cot, before getting up. A bright orange glow flickered to life; Kurogane squinted. It was the oil lamp in their tent, he realized, when Fai brought it close and he turned his head to avoid the glare. The wizard set it by the bed, fussed at him until he shrugged out of his sleeping shirt.

"The hell are you doing?"

Nimble fingers undid the bandage around his arm, plucked at the wad of cotton that dried blood had glued to him. Fai began swiping a cool, wet cloth over his wound and cutting the stitches open with a dagger, and Kurogane yelped.

"Oi!"

"Shut up," Fai said.

"I just sewed that up," he grumbled.

Fai ignored him.

He dipped his fingers into the bowl he'd been carrying, pressed a thick, green paste into raw flesh. Kurogane hissed. Fai wiped a flash of silver against the wet cloth (it carried the mild scent of spirits), bent over his arm and sewed the wound shut once more. A smear of green paste went onto the wound next, then bandages.

Fai did not stop there, however. He disinfected the wounds on Kurogane's forearm, applied more paste (it smelled like plants), and moved on to the shallow graze at his side. Kurogane knocked that slim hand away. "I don't need it. Save it for your own damn face."

The only response he received was a placid blink and a smile.

"Where'd you get that?" Kurogane pointed at the paste, frowned.

The wizard pointed behind him, released the bowl long enough to stretch both his arms straight above his head.  _Forest._  He mimicked chewing, pointed into the bowl. Food? No, that wasn't it.

Kurogane frowned, watched as Fai straightened to treat the injuries on his face. He caught a clearer whiff of the paste then. It smelled strong, bitter, and the memory of the wizard bent double, puking his guts out outside the tent came to mind.

"The leaves you were eating?" He mimed reaching up to pluck things out of the air, putting them into his mouth and chewing.

Fai's smile was smug and delighted at the same time; he patted Kurogane on the head, tried barking.  _Good dog._

"I'm not a damn dog," he snapped. The fact remained, though, that Fai had gone into forest for herbs—he'd been sampling the leaves previously to determine if they were the ones he knew. Which was stupid, if they looked the same but were completely different. "You could've poisoned yourself, you idiot."

But the pain in his arm was starting to dull, just a little bit, and Kurogane got the faintest impression that the paste did work, after all.

The bowl was almost empty, now. He frowned, dipped his own fingers in and rubbed it into Fai's scalp, where blood had dried. The wizard blinked at him, countenance open with surprise. Kurogane glared. "You aren't using all of this on me."

Fai leaned away, out of his reach, and Kurogane sat up suddenly, grasped a fistful of the wizard's thin shirt so he couldn't escape.

(Only Fai had let himself be caught. He could have darted out of Kurogane's reach, but he did not.)

"You aren't going anywhere," Kurogane said quietly, shifted to make space on the cot. When the idiot did not seem intent on putting distance between them, Kurogane slipped a hand down, undid the fastenings on his shirt, pushed it off. There weren't any serious injuries on Fai's torso (what was he even doing), save for a light burn on his arm, and Kurogane circled his fingers around the other's slender wrist, dipped his hand into the bowl.

He swiped cool paste thinly across Fai's skin, then reached up with more to treat the cuts on his scalp. Wispy hair tickled his fingers. Kurogane found himself tracing his fingertips along the back of Fai's head, touching his hair like he remembered his mother doing in his dream. A muscle twitched along the wizard's throat. It caught his attention, that stretch of skin, and he leaned forward, wound his fingers tighter in the idiot's hair to tip his chin up, expose his neck.

Fai stiffened minutely when he pressed a kiss to pale skin. Kurogane breathed a sigh, released him to blow the lamp out, set it further away so neither of them would accidentally kick it... at any point.

When he returned, tension was seeping out of Fai's body. He resumed his tasting of the other's skin, nipped and sucked and left a trail down to delicate clavicles while his hands smoothed over the lean muscles of Fai's chest. The blond swallowed noisily; he scraped his nails over Fai's nipples, rubbed around them, and Fai breathed sharply out, pushed himself into Kurogane's hands.

Maybe this was the entire point of undressing the idiot, but he didn't care right now, only cared about the smooth muscle against his mouth, heaving up when he dragged a hand down to narrow hips, hooked his fingers into the loose waistband. He licked at a nipple, bit into it lightly; Fai made a low, startled noise, and his breathing staggered out of his mouth. Kurogane moved back up, sucked lightly on Fai's throat, felt the flutter of his pulse against his tongue. Fai shivered; Kurogane bit into his shoulder, flattened his tongue against warm skin.

They were flat against the cot somehow, Fai beneath him, when he shifted back up to kiss the other. Fai's lips were wet. They parted easily against his, like how his thighs were spread wide, and Kurogane reached down to cup him. Fai rocked into his hand; he swallowed that moan, licked into Fai's mouth, sliding and squeezing. Fai was wet. Kurogane reached into his shorts, found him half-hard, took him into his hand and stroked, and the gasp that flew between them sent heat scudding down his spine, made him full.

He found Fai's hand, pressed it to his groin, and the wizard groaned low in his throat, rubbed at him, long fingers seeking, tugging. When Fai swirled fingers around his tip, he did the same; when the blond stroked firm along his shaft, he followed.

Then he released Fai entirely, and Fai whimpered. Kurogane felt the insistent need in his gut swell when Fai rocked his hips upwards, wanting, needing, his own fingers tugging roughly on Kurogane's cock. He grunted, licked at Fai's lips, then sucked his way down his throat once more. He slipped himself out of those warm fingers, was left straining, and it was almost compensated for by Fai's fingers threading through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, trying to force him down. He took his time, cupped tight balls, bit into a nipple.

Fai arched.

Kurogane tugged the rest of his clothes off so that pale, lean body was naked beneath him. Fai's erection pressed damply into his chest when he resumed his trail of kisses. Fai rolled his hips, leaving a wet smear, a low plea falling from his lips.  _Please._

He caught those pale legs by their knees, lifted them up and apart. Fai's cock was hard and flushed and starkly apparent against his pale skin, and Kurogane swallowed, licked his way down to it. He attempted to kiss around, down those sleek thighs and up—Fai was warm, dripping—but he couldn't resist taking that blunt tip into his mouth, licking around its velvety smoothness. Fai's begging turned into a high whine. Thin fingers tugged on his hair.

He kept those thighs spread with his hands, took Fai past his lips, sucked once, and Fai's mouth fell open in a stifled moan. He tried to move beneath Kurogane, tried to push in deeper. Kurogane held him down, lapped up his slippery moistness, pulled off and sucked at taut, veined skin until he reached its base, then licked back up along the thick ridge to his tip. Fai shivered; his fingers sifted through Kurogane's hair, and he was so  _hard_.

The look on his face was one of pure need—no masks, not now—and Kurogane dipped his head, licked along the seam of his balls. Fai choked on his moan; Kurogane released a thigh, brought one hand up to tease his entrance, thought about slicking himself and sliding in. The memory alone made him so hard there was no room left in his shorts; he brought one hand down to ease the tension some (he wanted to be in Fai's mouth, in Fai's ass) and then returned it to the wizard, teased and stroked him so he was panting, dripping onto himself.

Kurogane slicked his fingers with spit, eased one into Fai  _(hot, tight)_ , sliding and curling, and Fai swore sharply. He pressed the next finger in a little after, curled his other hand around the base of Fai's cock, pumped it. Fai shuddered, head tossing, hands curled into fists. He kept stroking, avoiding that particular spot, brushing over it at other times, until the wizard was gasping and musky with sweat.

He curled his fingers suddenly. Fai seized up around him with a hoarse cry, back flexed, cock pulsing in his hand, painting himself in streaks of white.

Drenched with lust or otherwise, Kurogane would never admit that it was this singular instant that was his favorite during the times they had sex. Not the wild rush of climax, not the keen press of Fai's body against his, but the brutal honesty on the wizard's face. He'd seen that face blank, scrunched up, mouth open, lips bitten shut—and in the moments immediately after, when Fai tried to regain his bearings again, there was a bit of who he was in the way he looked vaguely lost, in the way he remembered he needed to pretend.

In Yama, Kurogane saw the way Fai remember that he didn't need to lie, because there weren't any he could weave. In Yama, Fai took a little longer to recover, but he was more relaxed for it, especially when Kurogane left him alone after.

Mostly, he was content to let Fai be and rub an orgasm out of himself, but Fai repaid those favors.

Like he was doing now, leaning up with the haziest expression on his face, the smoothness of his chest broken by wet smears. Kurogane swallowed dryly, did not protest when Fai clambered warm into his lap, kissed him sloppily, reached into his shorts.

He'd take what he could get, and figure the rest out from there.

* * *

Big Doggy's mistress was baking today. She'd coaxed Little Doggy and Little Kitty into human children and dressed them, and the three of them were standing at the kitchen counter, rolling out dough and cutting out cookies. There were sprinkles everywhere, flour on Little Kitty's nose, and Little Doggy sneezed right onto a tray of human-shaped cookie dough. Their mistress shook her finger at him, but she was not angry at all.

Big Doggy skulked around and watched. He had refused to turn into a human for this (by now, the mistress had taken him off the leash in the house), and Big Kitty padded around him, walked into patches of flour and trailed them onto Big Doggy, leaving white paw prints on his shaggy dark fur. He growled; Big Kitty laughed at him.

Big Kitty found a cherry and stuck it on Big Doggy's nose. It tasted awful when he tried to eat it. When the mistress looked away, Big Kitty dipped his paws into frosting, did a flying leap, and landed in a heap on Big Doggy. The two of them ended up smeared with frosting; the mistress shouted and sent them out of the kitchen.

Big Doggy was humiliated. Big Kitty sat around and licked his paws—he'd had a great time altogether.

("You are a damn saboteur," Kurogane said, eyes narrowed. "If I was the one drawing this, none of this would happen."

Fai grinned and pranced out of their tent.)

* * *

There were far fewer casualties at the Moon Castle the next day. With the information that Fai and Kurogane had scraped together, Yasha's army managed to avoid most of the remaining explosives planted around their landing zone. Yasha's generals led the troops up the same path that Ashura had walked the previous night, and slowly, they began to regain an even footing against their enemies.

Kurogane had not been happy about having to exert less force with his injured arm. The wound began to bleed the first time he sparred against Fai, and Fai had frowned and punched his unhurt arm.

"It isn't like I'll die from this," he said. All the same, he was painfully aware that he wouldn't be able to train at full strength if the injury didn't heal right. The arrow had torn into muscle; it wasn't the first time he'd had to learn to be reliant on one arm.

The rest of the week passed slowly. The nightly battles resumed after what seemed like an age, and Yasha's soldiers had grown somewhat rusty over the weeks. It took greater effort on Kurogane's part to pick up the slack. By the time they were due for their next day off, he was more than ready for it.

Except not really, because it meant visiting Tomoyo, and he wasn't sure what he'd say to her when they next met.

On her part, Tomoyo was glad to have them over. She greeted them at the entrance to her home, ushered them in to have a seat. Fai followed her into the cramped kitchen. So did Kurogane.

"Why, are you wanting to help today, Kurogane?" she asked, soft eyes glinting with mischief. "I'm afraid there's no space for all three of us here—"

"No. I want some answers." He couldn't help the edge to his tone, and Tomoyo noticed it. Her shoulders drooped slightly; she gave him a sad smile, prepared her tea, and brought it to the sitting room.

Fai remained puttering about in the kitchen.

"Do have a seat." She made herself comfortable on a plush chair, looked up at him.

Kurogane didn't move to obey. He folded his arms stiffly, stared down at her. "You've been talking to the other Tomoyo, haven't you? The Tomoyo of Nihon."

She nodded, and the sadness in her eyes did not dissipate. "It's about the seal, isn't it?"

"Why did she do that to me?" he breathed. All at once, his built-up anger and frustration from the past week returned, welling up in his gut. "My strength is gone. I can't protect anyone with the state I'm in. Did she fucking want that to happen?"

Tomoyo looked away. "Protecting isn't about killing, Kurogane."

"Protecting is about cutting down the people who pose a threat." He glared. She was the same as the other Tomoyo, wasn't she? They both didn't regret that he was now crippled. Were they trying to humiliate him? "What's this crap about not killing? All this while, I've done my best not to kill. I know there's a curse. I wasn't even myself when I killed those guys."

She pursed her lips, thought on his words. It was with quiet gravity when she next spoke. "Why did you lose control?"

Thrown off his train of thought, Kurogane blinked. He'd meant to keep silent for a while, but the answer tumbled from his mouth anyway. "I thought that guy was dead."

Tomoyo followed his gaze towards the kitchen, and her eyes were melancholy. "Oh, Kurogane."

"Well? Can't you undo it?"

She shook her head. "There is more to strength, I'm afraid."

He burst.

"What more is there to fucking strength? That guy has someone coming after him, someone he's terrified of, and I have to help him," he snapped, heat bubbling in his chest. "You don't know the idiot, but he's a damn powerful wizard and he's scared. What more the person chasing him down? How do I protect him? Answer me that!"

It was Fai, Fai,  _Fai_  he wanted to protect now, and Tomoyo was still shaking her damn head and refusing to do anything about it. Kurogane trembled, clenched his fists so she wouldn't see him shaking.

"How do I protect him," he snarled, "when you've taken my strength from me?"

Tomoyo lowered her eyes. "It's not me who did that, but your princess, Kurogane."

He reined his anger in at that, took a deep breath. Same soul, not the same person. "Fine."

"I am sorry to hear that," she said softly, laid a hand on the chair next to her. "Won't you take a seat?"

"No."

"I see." She leaned forward, took the teapot and filled three teacups with steaming tea, holding the lid down so it wouldn't slip off. When that was done, she looked up at him again. "Tea?"

Right now, all he'd do was crush the cup in his hand, scalding liquid be damned. "No."

She sighed. "You sound like a petulant child, Kurogane."

"And you sound like that damn witch."

"Yuuko? You've mentioned it."

"You're still not answering me. How do I protect that idiot when my strength is gone?"

Tomoyo shook her head. "Your strength isn't gone. Just diminished."

"It's the same thing. It isn't fucking enough."

"Strength is—"

"Strength is fucking everything if that's all you have," he muttered, glaring at her. "But I don't suppose you understand."

It was all too easy for his princess to slap a seal on him and send him on his way. It was easy for her to watch while he struggled, trying to find another way to get better, to improve so someone would be strong enough to protect the idiot. Would she appreciate someone taking her powers away? He thought not. So she should be able to understand, but she didn't.  _Damn it._

Kurogane felt very much alone in that moment. He couldn't count on Tomoyo to fathom how he felt, and Fai— Well, Fai was Fai. He mostly wasn't very helpful at all.

"Not all problems are ours to solve," she said sagely, sipping from her tea.

He wanted to slap that teacup out of her hands. Instead, he jabbed a finger towards her kitchen. "All that idiot does is run from his problems. Are you saying I should leave him to fend for himself?"

He couldn't. He was certain that Fai would allow himself to be forced against a tree when his Ashura tracked him down. The soldiers in Yama were one thing, but for Fai to have trembled and hidden... This other Ashura was something else entirely. He didn't know what, and that filled him with alarming uncertainty. He needed his strength. There hadn't been anything to rely on but his own strength when the oni attacked. Even the princess had been late in coming. Could he trust her with something this important?

Tomoyo didn't reply immediately. She blew on her tea, took another mouthful. "That seal isn't just a limiter on your strength, you know. The other Tomoyo mentioned that there's a protection spell on it as well."

"Who does it protect?" He already knew, but wanted to ask anyway. Stupid of him.

"You."

"What about the wizard? Who's going to protect him?" He folded and unfolded his arms, fiddled with Souhi's grip.

Tomoyo looked away. "The future contains many possibilities, Kurogane. I couldn't tell you how."

But the fact remained that Tomoyo's affection only extended to Kurogane. Not to Fai. No one he knew cared about Fai except for himself and the kids, and there was only him here now, he alone who had enough strength to stand a fighting chance. "Can't you put a protection seal on him as well?"

She smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid not."

"Damn it." There was also asking the witch for a protection charm, but Kurogane didn't know what he'd give in exchange. Besides, there wasn't a way for him to reach Yuuko now. The white pork bun wasn't around. If the kids got here... He shook the thought off. "Whatever."

Tomoyo patted the seat next to her again. "Do have a seat. I can't imagine it's comfortable standing there like that."

"You can't imagine a great many things," he muttered beneath his breath, sat down anyway. The tea that Tomoyo had poured for him was cooling; he downed it all in a gulp, turned to the kitchen to listen out for Fai. The blond had been gone too long, and he was getting suspicious. "The hell's that idiot doing?"

She shrugged, smiled. "Why don't we wait and see?"

He wasn't about to wait for Fai over something stupid like that, so Kurogane changed the subject. "What's the damn seal supposed to teach me?"

Tomoyo sighed. "You're only going to get upset all over again, Kurogane."

He stared sullenly at her. The princess had not wanted him to kill. She'd cast the spell with the threat that he'd lose strength—his most important asset—when he did. But what purpose did that serve? How did not killing help? How did losing his strength help? He still didn't know. It wasn't working, and he was just as clueless, with less power to show for it. How much strength did he have to lose before he figured it out? Would it be too late by then?

His only option now was to trust her. He wasn't sure if he could, not with how her seal had crippled him. "Why this journey?"

"I can't answer that, either."

He huffed, turned away. "You're just going to be as annoying as the witch, aren't you?"

She chuckled behind her hand. "That's something you don't need to know."

Fai minced into the sitting room then, a wide, round plate in hand. He moved the teacups away, set the dish down with a flourish, pride glimmering in his eyes. It was an appetizer of sorts—paper-thin flatbread cut into neat squares, layered with slices of greens and dried meat.

"What's that?" Tomoyo asked, shifting her attention entirely to the wizard. "Oh, that looks delicious, Fai!"

The idiot grinned at her. Kurogane scoffed. Surely that hadn't been a difficult dish to do for the length of time he and Tomoyo had been talking, but well. He wasn't going to argue. For how much ignorance Fai feigned, he was surprisingly intuitive, and he'd sensed Kurogane's ire long before they stepped into Tomoyo's place.

Kurogane watched as the woman who shared his princess's soul reached forward, taking a little sandwich between her fingers. She popped it delicately into her mouth, chewed. Her face lit up. "I like it," she said. "I can't believe I'd never thought about doing that!"

He knew he was supposed to remain annoyed at Tomoyo, but he blurted, "Idiot likes to cook."

She turned towards him, smiling wide. "You should try it, Kurogane."

He flicked a glance at Fai, who was watching him with anticipation, silly grin plastered on his mouth. The morsels didn't look obscenely sweet. So, Kurogane ate one.

It really wasn't all that bad. The meat was smoked, not quite chewy like he'd been expecting, and it was savory, complementing the muted, doughy flatbread and the crunch of greens. Of course, he wasn't all that picky about his food (so long as it wasn't too goddamn sweet or salty), so he swallowed and shrugged. "Not bad."

Fai beamed and reached over, petting him on the head. He barked.

"I'm not a dog," he snapped, glared at the idiot. The nerve of him, doing this in front of Tomoyo—

Tomoyo laughed. "But you're all bark, Kurogane. Isn't that right?"

Fai settled into the seat next to him, reached for a wobbly sandwich himself. Kurogane glowered at Tomoyo. She stuck her tongue out at him.

He couldn't stay angry at her for long, not in her presence. Kurogane breathed his irritation out through his nostrils, taking care to remember why exactly it was that he'd sworn fealty to the Tomoyo of Nihon. She'd rescued him from the darkness, given him a place among her employees where no one else would. He owed her his sanity and his life, and how far he'd come. (Fai, on the contrary, he owed nothing to.) So, Kurogane would give her the benefit of the doubt again, trust that her dreamseeing would lead them all onto a good path.

There wasn't much else he could do at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomoyo is portrayed a lot as all-knowing and almost flawless in many of the fics I've read. So, a little spin on this. ;)


	9. Closer

Crickets sang in rattling notes outside the tent, swelling into high clicks one moment and low, pulsing thrums the next, a never-ending cycle that had begun soon after summer swept through the land. The bullfrogs joined in often, with their rumbling croaks, a counterpoint to the leaves rustling in the breeze. The rest of the camp was quiet—the soldiers had mostly retired to bed, and the few who remained awake murmured between themselves.

Inside, Kurogane sat cross-legged at the head of his cot, reading his maganyan. He knew every panel of the issue by now, every uneven ink stroke, and he wished he had the volumes he'd amassed from the other worlds. There were only so many times he could read the same thing over the course of three months. He'd scoured the book shop at the market a handful of times, now, and none of the available material (comics, texts, scriptures) had come as close to being worthy of his time.

He breathed a sigh, looked up at Fai, who was standing in front of their small mirror and running a brush through his hair.

Fai wasn't helping at all, not with his stupid animal comics (even if their random twists had Kurogane unable to guess what would happen next), and especially not with the yukata he'd brought back from the city earlier in the evening. Through the silvery, rectangular surface, Kurogane glanced at the shadows contouring the wizard's skin—from the faint gradient across his forehead to the dips next to his nose, and the hollows on either side of his mouth.

Fai wasn't smiling. He was thinking to himself when his lips pressed together, and Kurogane saw him worrying in the haunted cast of his eyes.

"Hey," he said, to distract the idiot. "Stop looking like that."

Dark eyes flickered up to meet his through the mirror; Fai tried a smile. Kurogane scoffed. It had been four months since they first landed in Yama, and Fai hardly knew the words of the language at all. By this point, Kurogane was sure he wasn't going to try to learn them. Was it because he knew, somehow, that their stay here was temporary? Tomoyo had been certain that the children would be here at some point, and Kurogane believed her. How had Fai known? Or was he merely determined to prevent any real communication between them?

Fai shrugged mutely, smile playing on his lips, and turned in the mirror to admire his yukata.

Both the mirror and the robe were new purchases. Fai had spotted a yukata lying around in Tomoyo's home earlier in the day, a light, colorful thing printed with flowers, and had held it up for a closer look. Kurogane had seen the admiration in his eyes, and so had Tomoyo, apparently, because she brightened, dragged him out to the market. Kurogane had followed warily, certain that Tomoyo and Fai shopping together was not a good thing.

(He'd been out to the Nihon bazaars with the other Tomoyo before. She had tried to outfit him in all manner of clothes that he had no business wearing.)

His hunches proved right when they arrived at the biggest robe shop in the city, and Fai's attention had anchored, at once, to the pastel shades along one side of the tent. Of all the robes available, deep and solemn colors alike, the idiot had taken a shine to the shelves with stacks upon stacks of floral patterns.

_Aren't those for women,_ he'd muttered at Tomoyo.

_Hush, he likes them,_ she'd replied, and waved him away while she riffled through the selection, looking for ones that were long enough to fit the wizard. Fai had looked uncertainly at Kurogane, then at Tomoyo, fingering his coin pouch. It seemed that Tomoyo understood his reluctance to spend his earnings, because she'd placed a hand on his, over the money pouch, and shaken her head. Fai only frowned deeper when she pressed her hand to her chest and smiled at him.

_You want to buy one for him?_ Kurogane hadn't been able to help asking.

She'd glanced between them both, given him a sly grin, and smiled reassuringly at Fai, patting his arm. Fai returned the smile tentatively.

It was almost amusing how two grown men like them obeyed the whims of a tiny lady like Tomoyo, but Kurogane supposed he'd seen stranger things. He'd followed and watched when Fai eventually decided on a sky blue robe, one that had white silhouettes of birds flying in an elegant swirl up the length of the cloth. When Tomoyo had asked the shopkeeper about its price, Kurogane found himself stepping forward, ingot pressed into the shopkeeper's surprised palm.

Tomoyo had smiled at him and said, _You won't regret it._

Fai'd stared and frowned, so Kurogane mimicked playing the kokyu (he'd had his mind set on paying for that, after all, before Fai thwarted him). It was payback.

Then they'd returned to Tomoyo's home and she'd pestered Fai to try the yukata on, and Kurogane understood exactly what she'd meant about him not regretting it.

He was still not regretting it now, because the robe clung to Fai, greenish in the lamplight. It hung loosely from his thin shoulders and arms, followed the narrow jut of his hip, and was just faintly translucent where it fell to his calves. Mostly, Kurogane liked the way it dipped down his chest, exposing exquisite clavicles that he probably shouldn't have been so familiar with.

Fai turned a complete circle in front of the mirror, then slipped his fingers past the robe collar, tugging it away so he could see the dark, bold arch of his tattoo.

Kurogane caught him looking at his tattoo sometimes. It made Fai's mouth stretch thin and his gaze darken, and somehow, he knew that the tattoo had been a great deal in the wizard's past. Just like Ginryuu was so very important to him. Why did Fai still look so torn, when he had his most precious thing back? Was the tattoo connected to Fai's Ashura? It wasn't an ordinary tattoo, was it?

"Hey," Kurogane said again, unwilling to see the wizard like that. It reminded him of loss and a little of grief, and that hit far too close to home. "Come over here."

Fai understood that phase, at least, even if he couldn't pronounce it, and Kurogane shifted over to make space for him. He tucked the maganyan down by a ceramic jar of wine, grabbed the drawing stick, and leaned over the edge of the cot, sketching the tiers of soldiers once again. The cot creaked lightly when Fai sat beside him. This time, though, Kurogane didn't attempt to speak aloud. There were always ears around, even if they weren't suspicious.

He pointed at the circles representing Yasha's generals, then at himself and Fai.

Blond eyebrows lifted. Fai blinked at him, repeated Kurogane's gesture, and raised his eyebrows higher. _Really?_

Kurogane raised his own eyebrows. _No?_

Fai pursed his lips in consideration. Kurogane didn't doubt that he'd observed the generals prior to this. Sure, the generals had greater duties, but they had a greater pay, too, and more freedom with their behavior. He began sketching the ingots, then the dragon-lizard steeds, and the hours with Yasha.

At the mention of the time they'd lose to guarding the King, Fai's forehead creased. He enjoyed the freedom of his current position (they both did), and the incentive of earning more money didn't surpass what they got by playing music, or training. Fai shook his head. Kurogane shrugged, scuffed the drawings back into the dirt. They weren't interested in becoming generals, and that was fine with him.

The wizard took the drawing stick from him then, leaned over the edge of the cot, and sketched Big Doggy howling at the moon, riding on one of the general's steeds. When he turned back to Kurogane, his eyes were crinkled with amusement.

Kurogane glowered at him, snatched the stick away, drew a circle on the ground. He'd never really considered drawing like how Fai did, but he wanted his petty revenge, and the most effective method he could think of right now was to do to Fai what the idiot did to him. So he drew cat ears on the circle, filled in its ugly half-moon eyes, and added a fish stuck halfway up its mouth.

The drawing didn't quite look as elegant as Fai's, though—the proportions were off, Big Kitty's head was far bigger than the rest of its body, and Fai pointed at the fish with a frown. Kurogane drew fish in a river this time, complete with flowing water and trees, and the wizard's eyes grew wide.

He was doubled over and clutching at his stomach in the next instant, choking on his laughter, and when he finally recovered, he took the stick from Kurogane. The fish he drew was far different—unlike Kurogane's oval (with two divergent lines representing a tail), Fai's fish had fins and eyes and scales, and Kurogane flushed hotly.

"Just because I can't draw fish doesn't mean you can laugh at me," he snapped.

Fai continued to snicker.

Kurogane reached over to throttle him; Fai twisted away with a grin, and he ended up shoving at the idiot's shoulder. Fai ducked beneath his arm, stretched thin fingers toward his undefended middle. They had done this before, on a few nights when Fai had decided that tickling was a good idea, and Kurogane had discovered that he hated being tickled.

So, he grabbed both of Fai's wrists (Fai let him), pinned him flat against the cot, hands above his head. The wizard stared back up at him, challenging grin wide and mirthful, and Kurogane growled. "You're an idiot."

"Shut up," Fai said. He wet his lips with a dart of his tongue, and Kurogane realized suddenly how very close they were, and how Fai's yukata had come loose in their brief tussle. "Closer."

He blinked. When had Fai learned that? Did he understand what it meant? But the idiot wriggled beneath him, warmth bleeding through the thin cotton of his robe, and Kurogane couldn't stop staring at him, at the smooth curve of his cheek and the lean muscle of his chest, and those dark eyes that danced, and the mouth that had smiled a lot more since they first got here.

He reached up to cup Fai's side—he was thin enough that Kurogane's fingers easily spanned the curve of his rib cage—and the fabric was rough beneath his palm. Fai grew very still.

Kurogane traced his thumb over the lowest rib, watched the creature trapped beneath him. When Fai swallowed, it was very loud in the tent.

"We could be more," he said quietly, leaned in so his face hovered above Fai's. Fai licked his lips again, but he didn't move, not to get away. "Don't you see?"

He wanted to help the wizard leave that darkness behind, like Tomoyo had done for him, but Fai refused to let him, chose instead to keep his distance. And Fai was important—he couldn't deny that now, had not been able to for some time. It didn't matter if Fai didn't think of him in the same way (yes, yes it did). There was something inside him that hungered, like a hollow ache, when he thought of holding Fai close and not letting him go. When he thought about Fai trusting him completely.

"What do I have to do? Tell me," he whispered, brought his face close so their lips caught for an instant.

Fai tensed; fear flickered in his eyes, and Kurogane winced, released him as if he scalded.

He shifted backwards awkwardly, still aching, watching as Fai scrambled away. Kurogane busied himself with Souhi, saw from the corner of his eye the way Fai slipped out of the tent in a hurry, barefoot, tent flaps swaying in his wake. He sighed, pulled out his polishing rag. So much for trying to convince the idiot of anything.

.

It was a half hour later before Fai returned. Kurogane had blown out the oil lamp and laid in his cot, and was staring blankly at the roof of the tent when Fai eased back through the doorway, searching gaze landing on him. Neither of them was particularly surprised to see the other. Fai's eyes cut away, but he was tying the tent flaps shut and heading over to the side of Kurogane's cot, straddling him in a fluid movement.

This wasn't the first time it happened. He understood that the wizard wanted heat, wanted something to distract himself, and they'd done enough together for Kurogane to know that Fai felt the most at ease with him. Fai flirted, fled, and returned every time.

He wasn't about to turn Fai away, so he watched and waited, until Fai tugged at his sash and dropped it on the floor by Kurogane's cot. When he shifted forward, a heavy weight grinding into Kurogane's hips, Kurogane inhaled sharply, watched as the tidied folds of Fai's robes loosed. Fai still wasn't meeting his eyes.

He swallowed, reached up to grasp Fai's knee through the yukata. There was a sliver of pale thigh that was visible between the parted folds of his robes. He had plenty of memories of those thighs, now, memories of him nipping at them, memories of those thighs spread wide, quivering, slung over his shoulders.

He tugged the yukata open, swallowing thickly when he was reminded all over again that Fai had not been wearing any sort of underwear beneath. Fai rolled his hips, grew fuller beneath his gaze. When Kurogane didn't move, he bucked again _(touch me)_ , strained forward.

Kurogane relented, curled his fingers around him, and when Fai leaned forward and kissed him this time, it was fierce, demanding in the press of his flesh and the sweep of his tongue. The yukata fell open around their bodies, covered them like a blanket. (He had not missed the significance of the design—it was similar to the kimono in Nihon, though it lacked the floor-length sleeves, like those on the ones lords bought for their male lovers.)

But the fact remained that he had bought this garment, that Fai was wearing it (and nothing else), and Fai was rocking hard into his palm, whimpering and leaving a smear of moisture on his skin, his body open to anything Kurogane might desire.

He swallowed hard, tangled his fingers into Fai's wispy hair, shifted the other so he ground up and _in_ , and Fai choked on his moan.

They were lost in a flurry of heavy caresses and wet kisses, and later, when Fai was on all fours in front of him, the collar of his yukata dipping past his shoulders, Kurogane leaned forward, pressing firm against taut skin. Fai shivered, rocking back. He tugged the fabric further down to reveal the ink-dark head of the phoenix, gave it the kiss Fai wouldn't accept, the tender brush of mouth over skin, and when he finally sank full into Fai, the phoenix rippled, acknowledging him with quivering wings.

* * *

Big Doggy was suspicious. He had begun to follow Big Kitty everywhere—to the kitchen, to the bedroom, and even to the bathroom. Big Kitty swatted at him and hid behind Little Kitty and Little Doggy, but Big Doggy was persistent. He didn't trust Big Kitty, ever since that skinny blond man had appeared again, this time near the house. The man had stayed away, downwind, so Big Doggy had not been able to scent him. Big Kitty had been gone the entire time he was there. When Big Kitty returned, he smelled like the wind and leaves.

Big Doggy couldn't leave the house by the cat flap. It was too small for his broad shoulders, and more than once, Little Kitty and Little Doggy had left right along with Big Kitty, which only made him worried. He thought about shapeshifting back into a man to open the door, but it was below his dignity to do so. Big Kitty had never put the children in danger.

He ended up waiting by the door until the three of them got home, and inspected Little Kitty and Little Doggy for signs of injury or unhappiness. To his annoyance, they were perfectly content to spend time alone with Big Kitty. The black cat laughed at him, and Big Doggy chased him around the house all over again.

("Look at you," Fai said to Kurogane, grinning wide, "all worried about the children like that. Such a good father."

Kurogane had growled and snarled at him and kicked the comic back into the dirt.)

* * *

The introduction of explosives into the battlefield had ultimately not posed an advantage toward either side of the war. With both armies desperately aware of the weapons in the other's arsenal, it had been difficult to attempt laying traps, and there were no explosives that could be hurled over a distance in this world. Men did continue to perish, however. Yasha lost a general to an explosion they had not seen coming. Crooked Nose stepped up to take his place.

Fai was certain that he had not disliked anyone as much as he did the new general. He had feared and resented the King of Valeria for casting him and Fai into the tower, and found the haughty Valerian nobles annoying, but Crooked Nose had only continued to be a thorn in his side from the moment he was promoted.

Where he had been afraid of Fai before, the man now used his power to turn a number of officers and soldiers against him. Yasha had not been swayed, and neither had Touya and Yukito, but Fai quickly tired of the fresh looks of suspicion and the new recruits that skirted around him, muttering among themselves. Crooked Nose had not the power to affect his pay or Kurogane's, but he had been increasingly detaining both of them for menial tasks, like feeding the steeds when any other soldier would have sufficed, or cleaning out the animals' pen and scrubbing the soldiers' bathing areas.

He even tried to have Fai's fiddle confiscated (Kurogane had stepped up and glowered at the officer sent to do the general's bidding), and when he'd put Fai's platoon in the most precarious position in a new strategy, Kurogane had shot the entire plan down. They lost their next day off when they were made to help Yasha with his accounts, when Yasha clearly did not need any help at all.

Kurogane reached his boiling point when Crooked Nose ordered Fai to report to him to assist with certain tasks, after the post-battle debriefing had concluded one day. He tensed, seething with murderous intent as he stared at the general. Fai smiled thinly. It never paid to forget what either he or Kurogane was capable of.

Fai left Kurogane with a light pat on his arm, and when Crooked Nose led him into the forest, where a handful of oil lamps glimmered, he figured that the general could probably do with a more permanent reminder.

Most of the men fled when Fai sent them a chilly, disdainful glance. Those that stayed were quickly dispatched when Fai wove between them, touched cold fingers to their throats before they could do so much as draw their weapons. They were convinced he was a demon (Fai understood _that_ word, too), and it had been scarcely two minutes since he joined them before he was left alone with Crooked Nose.

The forest was quiet save for the rustling of leaves and blood pounding in his ears, and Fai smiled innocently at the new general, who swallowed and backed away. He'd have choice words to say if they spoke the same language, but they didn't, and Fai figured that he didn't need to, anyway.

Crooked Nose was painfully slow for a general. He didn't have a defense powerful enough to do Yasha much good. Fai clicked his tongue, stepped up behind him. Before the other could react, he'd hooked his hand around the man's throat and flung him heavily onto his back. Crooked Nose landed with a heavy thump, hit his head on the ground. Fai smiled. The man squealed and squirmed backwards, pleading.

Fai listened out for the other soldiers—there were none—before stepping lightly forward, stopping at the other's hips. Crooked Nose stared in horror when Fai raised his foot, scrabbling desperately away. It didn't help; Fai slammed his boot down into the other's groin. Crooked Nose's balls went out with little pops that Fai felt in his toes; the man screamed.

He left the forest to the sound of agonized panting.

* * *

The camp was afire with rumor the next day. Kurogane raised his eyebrows; Fai merely responded with a slow smile, until word reached Kurogane in the crowded breakfast tent, and he smirked, sharp teeth showing. Fai grinned wider.

He was surprised, however, when Kurogane reached over the wooden table to ruffle his hair.

"Idiot," Kurogane said.

_I'm not one,_ he wanted to answer, though he figured that a lazy smile would suffice. (It did. Kurogane grinned and turned away, and Fai caught a dusting of red creeping up his neck.)

* * *

Crooked Nose didn't give them much trouble after that—he couldn't, when he barely hung on to his dragon-lizard steed just before they were due to be transported to the Moon Castle. Fai and Kurogane watched amusedly while the general hobbled to the pens, blanching as he settled himself gingerly on the back of his mount.

It wasn't surprising to hear that the new general had not pressed issue with Fai. The injury was delicate; Crooked Nose refused to reveal the exact circumstances of how he'd received it. His discomfort slowed his reflexes on the battlefield. With that, it was only a matter of time before he was pierced by multiple arrows and swords—Shara's generals were very thorough with their kills.

Yasha picked Kurogane to be the next general. It wasn't surprising at this point—even the officers were in agreement that Kurogane's strength and experience were critical to the army. Kurogane, himself, wasn't at all pleased.

"I can't just leave you to fight on the ground," he muttered at Fai, who tipped his head to the side and smiled blankly, shadows from their solitary oil lamp flickering across his face. "You'd just get yourself killed if you keep using that bow alone."

He knew Fai could defend himself. He'd seen it on multiple occasions, and yet. He'd grown used to the back-to-back fighting they'd perfected over the few months (hundreds of hours) they'd spent together on the battlefield. In comparison, horseback fighting had never been something he was good at. Fai would be alone on the field, and he'd be up on a dragon-lizard steed, above the soldiers and a target for all.

The wizard crossed their tent to stand before him, patting his head, smile lingering on his lips. He said something in his language (and Kurogane was annoyed that he couldn't comprehend any of it, even now).

"You know I can't understand that, idiot," Kurogane said, frowning deeply. He swatted Fai's hand away. Fai pouted and sat down on the cot beside him, fiddling with Souhi's handle.

The steeds were his main problem with fighting on the field as a general. He was far too exposed at that height, could hardly strike anyone down with his sword alone. He'd have to tone down his energy attacks if he wanted to be careful with taking men down. And Fai wouldn't be at his back.

Fai shoved the drawing stick at him, raised his eyebrows.

He sighed and sketched himself on a steed, surrounded by archers who could attack him from anywhere. The blond frowned, pursed his lips. Then he stood and strode back to the tent entrance, beckoning for Kurogane to follow.

"At least put your boots on, idiot," he said, pointing at his own as he stamped his feet into them. Fai grinned.

They made their way through the camp in the dark. It didn't matter that they were in their sleeping clothes—there wasn't anyone awake to watch, and summer nights were warm and humid in the forest. The fewer clothes they had on, the more comfortable it was.

The steeds were kept closer to the teleporting area and secured to the trunks of the largest trees with heavy ropes. By this point, both of them had enough experience with the creatures to know how to untie them in the quietest and most efficient ways possible. When Fai waved towards one of the mounts, Kurogane raised an eyebrow at him.

"What good does this do?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. Fai jabbed his finger at the creature; Kurogane shook his head. The steeds watched them with large, intelligent eyes.

The wizard gave an exaggerated sigh, walked over to free one of the steeds. He tugged it over to Kurogane, waved for him to mount it. There wasn't anything to lose. Kurogane shrugged, scaled the creature by grabbing the rope still looped around its neck.

It was a magnificent specimen of an animal. At his tallest, the top of his head came up to the creature's scaly back—it could easily bowl him over if it was beyond control. Feathery ears extended backward from the top of its armored face; it had a sharp beak, and ate half a man's weight in grain in a day. Left alone, they foraged through the forest floor for food that Kurogane wasn't particularly keen on investigating.

Fai's indignant squawk drew his attention away from his mount. Feet away, the blond held the rope of another steed in hand, though it shimmied sideways whenever he tried to mount it. Kurogane frowned. There was nothing wrong with the wizard's methods. "Hey," he said. "Take mine."

He slid off his own mount, strode over to Fai's. The creature flicked its ears and watched them both. Kurogane pointed at his own, clambering onto the new mount easily.

Fai grabbed the rope Kurogane had left dangling. As before, the steed moved away from him when he tried scaling its side. Kurogane stared. The idiot hadn't mistreated the animals, and Kurogane had mounted them both without a problem. He dismounted, walked over to Fai, who wore a thoughtful look edged with dismay. There could be any number of reasons why the creatures wouldn't allow the wizard to ride them, and mounting them by force wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Here," he said, taking the rope from Fai. "Do this."

He reached out to the creature's nose, allowed it to sniff at its fingers. Fai's expression didn't change by much. He did follow Kurogane's example, however, and the creature's ears flattened at his scent. Fai pressed his lips together. Kurogane grabbed his hand (those thin fingers were bony against his), rubbed their skin together, and waited. Fai shifted uneasily beside him.

It was a few minutes before the steed's ears perked back up. Kurogane glanced towards Fai and nodded for him to mount it. Vague uncertainty still remained in his eyes, though he obeyed, grabbing the rope and hauling himself up once more.

This time, the steed did not move, and Fai swung his leg over the creature's back, settling down close by its withers. He smiled unsteadily. Kurogane scaled his own mount, urged it closer to Fai's.

Fai looked up at him when he untied the rope from the creature's neck. And there, Kurogane realized their second problem: the generals did not command their mounts with reins nor words—the creatures had been trained to respond to the body language of their rider. He sighed, pointed at his thigh and leaned forward. The creature began to trot. Fai frowned at him, leaned forward on his own mount. It did not move, however.

"Just as well that you're learning this now," he said to Fai.

With another sigh, Kurogane dismounted from his steed and secured it to its tree, before scaling the creature Fai was still sitting on.

"Kuro-mii?" he asked, frowning.

Kurogane swung himself behind Fai, leaned to one side so he could untie the rope around the creature's neck. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud far below. He shifted his attention back to Fai.

The wizard sucked a sharp breath in when Kurogane pressed himself flush against his back. "Can't do this any other way," he muttered in Fai's ear. "You don't understand what I'm saying."

He pushed his palms flat down on Fai's thighs, cupped them and pressed them against the creature's side. "This tells the animal you want it to move." Then, leaning forward so Fai was forced to lean with him, Kurogane said, "Forward."

The creature began to walk. Fai huffed in surprise. It had a rocking gait, one that had them shifting on its back, into each other. Kurogane set that thought aside, lifting his hands to hold Fai's arms up. The wizard allowed him to manipulate his limbs; Kurogane arranged them so it looked as though Fai were nocking an arrow.

"So you can move and shoot at the same time," he said. Fai nodded.

He looped an arm around the wizard's waist when it seemed as if the creature were headed for a tree, shifting them both sideways. "Right," he said, and the animal turned to the right, bypassing the tree altogether. "Left," was the next command. Fai nodded again.

"But there's times you want to go faster, or have it turn sharper." Kurogane guided the creature around in the pen, hoofbeats muffled against the dirt ground. When there was an empty stretch before them, he cupped his hands beneath Fai's ass and rolled him forward easily. Fai yelped and scrambled for balance; the creature increased its pace. Kurogane maintained the creature's speed for a few seconds, then pulled Fai back heavily against himself, so his weight shifted backward. (Fai's ass pressed into his groin.) The creature slowed at once. "Slower," he said. "The rest is not my intention."

He left Fai to absorb the information, watching as the wizard squeezed his legs around the animal's sides, moved front and right to turn it a sharp right, and leaning back to slow it down. Fai took them on a great loop through the forest, leading the creature through the trees, increasing its speed when there was a larger patch of empty land.

Kurogane would be lying if he were to say that the rocking trot hadn't an effect on his body and his thoughts. He couldn't, however, because Fai pressed firm against him every time he slowed the steed down, to the point where there was a very obvious bulge between them, and he'd have to move back to conceal it. But he didn't want to, and— And Fai was very obviously supporting himself on his arms and grinding right back at him.

So, he wasn't thinking straight, and there were just a couple layers of fabric between them. Fai knew that. Fai wasn't doing anything to help clear his mind.

Fai urged the animal faster, and Kurogane's breath hitched when the rolling gait threw him right up against the blond and the firm press of his ass. Fai whimpered.

They were soldiers in a foreign land, dressed in their sleeping clothes, and he was thinking about having sex on a fucking _animal_.

Fai reached backward, wriggled so the waistband of his shorts rode low, and Kurogane swallowed hard. It would be— not exactly easy, but they could do this. It was plausible. There was just about one layer left between them and— Fuck it, Kurogane decided, reached forward into Fai's shorts.

Fai's cock was heavy in his hand. It was slippery, too, and Kurogane's thoughts took a backseat when a jolt of heat speared down through his gut. He wrapped his fingers around the other, stroked him firmly, and Fai pushed into his fingers. He groaned, fumbled with Kurogane's shorts, drew him out so warm air brushed over his heated skin. Kurogane hissed, jerked into his grasp.

They were rutting into each other somehow, balanced on the steed; he hauled Fai against himself, grinding into smooth skin, and reached down. His spit-slicked fingers dipped into puckered muscle. Fai moaned, and Kurogane swore when his fingers sunk into Fai, stretching him, pressing in so Fai forgot to moan. He jerked against Kurogane, stroked him with his own wet fingers, and then Kurogane was leaning them both forward, pulling Fai onto himself while Fai's slender fingers angled him just right.

Fai was hot, hot, _hot_ around him, shaking and moaning and the gait of the steed kept them moving, kept him sliding in, pushing deep.

Neither of them really cared where they were going; all Kurogane focused on was staying on the steed, and staying inside Fai. Fai, on his part, shoved himself right back, his breathing labored. He was leaking wet when Kurogane wrapped his fingers back around him, stroking and stroking, and Fai was growing hoarse and rutting hard and Kurogane could only think about the pressure in his groin when the creature stopped moving beneath them.

He shoved hard into Fai, needing to come, until Fai shuddered and spilled all over his fist and he lost himself in Fai's heat, pulsing and spilling and only aware of the insistent throb of his body.

When he shook himself back to awareness, Kurogane found them back in the army's pen, Fai in a languid heap in his arms, panting and sweaty and not looking at him. Slowly, he drew himself out and away, sweeping his senses around them—

There was something in the shadows. Not quite human, not a demon, but familiar all the same.

Kurogane blinked and straightened his clothes, breathing hard, until Yasha stepped out, his face blank as he studied them. Kurogane bit a curse down and flushed. Fai wasn't looking up at all.

Yasha gave them a brief nod, turned away, and headed back to his quarters. Kurogane swore when he was certain the king was out of earshot. He slid off their mount. His knees buckled beneath him; he grabbed the creature's flanks to keep himself steady, and reached a hand up for Fai. The wizard kept his face turned away, laid limply against the creature's neck.

He saw that as a wish to be left alone and headed shakily over to where he'd dropped the animal's ropes, knotting one end around a sturdy tree. "Hey," he said at length, "bring it here."

Fai finally cracked an eye open to look at him, urging the steed forward. Kurogane looked away while Fai wiped the mount off as best as he could, tidied his own clothes, and slipped off. He wasn't much better in recovering; Kurogane watched the idiot wobble off back toward their tent. Before he left, he made sure to scale the steed to wipe it down properly with his own shirt—these animals weren't stupid, and he didn't want to have one hold a grudge against him.

Yama had turned him into something else. He hoped Tomoyo-hime wouldn't catch wind of this, because he certainly wouldn't stand her laughing in his face. He would not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex on horse was inspired by clampkink. This chapter is essentially sex (to me) LOL. All the same, I hope you guys enjoyed it :) Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/etc!


	10. Ends of Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Okay so I forgot to mention that 'ink, fire and fiddle' has a total of 10 chapters, and this is the last chapter. (AO3 has this way of removing the total number of chapters sometimes and I forget to update it.) Forgive me? To make up for it, this chapter is especially long - 8k words.

Sweat slicked his skin, gluing leather to thin undershirt to heaving pectorals. It was humid. Bits of kicked-up dust hung in the night air, clinging to his face and arms, and all Kurogane cared about, really, was the thrum of blood in his veins and the victorious roaring in his chest. There were finally results showing after the months of vicious training he'd put himself through. Where his strength had dipped to roughly seventy-five percent due to Tomoyo's seal, it was now eighty.

It wasn't very much of an improvement in the grand scheme of things. But it was something, because it meant that all he had to do was to keep on training, however long it took.

A few yards away, Fai paused in his music, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm overcoming the curse," he told the wizard, even if the other didn't understand. "There's a way out of this."

He wanted to cross the three yards between them to pull Fai into a kiss. Fai would just flee, so Kurogane contented himself with sheathing Souhi and heading for the steeds instead. It could wait. Fai jogged to catch up with him in the shadowy forest, babbling an incomprehensible string of words. He pointed at the training grounds, though, so Kurogane got the gist of it. He shook his head.

"No, we're done for today." He clambered onto his steed, watched as Fai tucked the bow of his kokyu away and mounted his own ride. There was time. He felt like celebrating, and he didn't want to do it while they were grimy and all their wine was back in the tent. Kurogane urged his steed into motion, making sure that the idiot was following close behind.

They'd decided a month ago, after the attempt at riding that didn't quite go as planned, that they were better off riding separately on their own mounts. It didn't really matter that they were borrowing the creatures—Kurogane was a general, and a week after his promotion, Fai had single-handedly prevented a platoon from being annihilated. (He had made the decision to evacuate the soldiers just before Ashura's army launched a volley of burning arrows, and had divided the troops and ordered them to return fire.)

So, Fai had been promoted, and the only real difference it made on the battlefield was that he was at Kurogane's back once more, a fact that Kurogane found unnervingly comforting.

The wizard guided his steed closer as they wove between the trees, tapping Kurogane on the arm and reaching over to take his wrist. Kurogane frowned, pulled it back. "I'm fine," he grumbled. "It's long been healed."

Fai clicked his tongue and made a grab for Kurogane's hand. There wasn't much of a point in protesting, not when their distraction could wind up with their mounts walking on either side of a tree (and it had happened once, resulting in bruises on both their heads). Kurogane muttered beneath his breath while Fai inspected the healed arrow wound on his forearm—a shot that had made it past their defenses because the steeds slowed them down in battle.

He would abandon the animal in a heartbeat if he could, but Yasha had mandated that his generals were to ride the steeds alongside him. It didn't mean Kurogane had to like it.

Kurogane tucked his arm away the moment the idiot released it. It had just been an insignificant wound, nothing Fai should concern himself about. He had been embarrassed when Fai had spotted him tucking the injury away and made a big fuss of it—he wasn't a ninja for nothing—and they had been in front of the other soldiers, no less. There had been side remarks about them being married, but all they did was accentuate the ache in his chest.

(Marriage should be how his father and mother had been, all smiles and eye contact and touching and kisses on hair. It should be trust and protection and no secrets, not running and hiding and a deep yearning for something better. Not this. Nothing like this.)

Kurogane wondered what his parents would think of the not-anything he had with Fai. His mother would shake her head and smile sadly. His father... He didn't know. He didn't want to think of himself as a disappointment, so he stopped thinking about it.

Fai rode closer so their knees bumped, jolting Kurogane out of his thoughts. He lifted his eyebrows, smiled, said another string of words. Kurogane assumed those to mean, _Kuro-rin looks so solemn. What are you thinking about?_

He swallowed, stared at the loose smile on Fai's mouth. Would there ever be more to them than this? "You should let me protect you," he said as they drew closer to the campgrounds. "I would do it."

Fai continued to smile, none the wiser. He pressed in close again, reached up to tweak the tip of Kurogane's nose, and Kurogane snapped at him.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed as they skirted the edge of the camp, the wizard leading him onward instead of heading back to the creatures' pen like they usually did. He urged his own steed closer to Fai's, swung a punch at him. Fai ducked with a grin. "You're an idiot!"

"Idiot," Fai sang back, waggling his eyebrows. He looked to the side suddenly, where the road into the city stretched out before them, narrow and open. His smile broadened. "Race?"

Kurogane flicked his gaze between Fai and the dirt road. There was time. They weren't in a hurry to go anywhere, and they'd never raced to the city before, only through the forest to the training grounds. "Race," he answered, grinning.

Fai took off the moment he began to smile; Kurogane squeezed his legs around his steed and leaned forward, urging the creature into a gallop. He patted its rump lightly—code for _faster_ —the same as what Fai was doing, and he hung on to the animal's neck, leaning down so there was less resistance against the wind.

It seemed as though the wizard had allowed him to catch up, because Fai wasn't surprised at all when he drew abreast with the other steed, trailing dust clouds behind them. The blond leaned in close to his ride, murmured in its ear; Kurogane watched with narrowed eyes when they began to pull ahead. He tapped insistently on his steed, shifted his weight along with it when it rounded tight corners and bends, but Fai was always ahead, just like he was in their inane chases everywhere else.

He spotted the glow of lamps as they drew closer to the city. Fai sat up straight and whooped, allowing his arms to trail bonelessly behind him, and Kurogane took the chance to drive his steed onward. The wizard might have had the advantage of weight, but Kurogane was going to take advantage of that carelessness where he could. He grinned when his steed pulled up alongside Fai's once more, savored the open surprise on Fai's face. The idiot was quick to recover, though, and Kurogane was prepared for it when Fai drew ahead once more.

They streaked through the city streets, neck-to-neck, until Kurogane spotted the familiar row of tent-homes not too far away. "Tomoyo," he said to Fai, who perked up and followed his gaze. Without another word, they slowed down, until the dragon-lizard steeds were trotting along the smaller streets, hardly the worse for wear.

Tomoyo's tent was still lit from within when they approached. Kurogane exchanged a glance with Fai. He tilted his head towards the tent; Fai nodded. They dismounted, walking down the narrow alley together.

"Tomo—" Kurogane stared when the tent flap was pulled open before he'd even finished speaking. "How did you know we were here?"

The petite woman smiled and looked between them, stepping aside to allow them in. She was dressed in plainer clothes now that it was night—simple layers instead of printed fabric. "Good evening to you too, Kurogane, Fai," she said with a tiny smile. "Do come in."

Kurogane glanced at the steeds still waiting by the alley mouth, shook his head. They couldn't leave their mounts around, even if Yama didn't have thieves. "Not staying long," he said. "We were just here for a while. Thought you might've been asleep."

"I had a feeling that I should stay up tonight." Tomoyo smiled at them both, dark eyes falling to Fai's kokyu. She waved towards it. "Did you come to play?"

"No," Kurogane began, but stopped when Fai pulled his bow out, brushed the road dust off his strings. He nudged the idiot, nodded at the steeds and pointed between themselves. "You and me. We need to go back."

Fai waved him off, held his thumb and index finger together. _Just for a bit._

"He has a better sense of priorities than you, Kurogane," Tomoyo said, mischief darting through her eyes. "I don't mind."

He glared at both of them.

Fai began to play a simple melody, one that Kurogane had heard countless times before this. He'd played it both at the campfires and while Kurogane trained, and though he took care to drag the bow lightly across taut strings, its warble still sounded very loud in the dark alley. The melody itself was slow and sad, and as Kurogane listened and watched the other two (Fai with his eyes closed, peaceful, Tomoyo with her soft look) gathered in the splotches of orange light from Tomoyo's home, he couldn't help but get the distinct impression of a farewell.

Standing all together like that, solemn, Fai taking the time to play. Tomoyo coming out to greet them. No one else in the alley, and the moon shining coolly down on them.

"Do you know something you're not telling?" he asked when Fai's music eventually faded away.

Tomoyo shrugged, smiled. "Nothing you won't know in time."

It was the best answer he was going to get from her, so he didn't press it. He wasn't ready to leave, not just yet, but. There were still many things he wanted to do and say. All the same, he trusted his gut feeling, and he knew this was the right one. This was a goodbye.

"I've gained some strength," he told Tomoyo. "The sort I still need more of."

She smiled at him and patted his arm. "You will learn more."

"Does the other Tomoyo, the one in Nihon, does she know about him?" He jerked his chin towards Fai. "About—"

 _About me and him_ , he wanted to say, but it didn't feel right to. There wasn't anything going on between them.

"Don't give up hope," she said kindly, looked him in the eye. "It won't be easy."

"I know that." Having Tomoyo tell him the same didn't make it any better. "Things will be changing soon, won't they?"

She reached out for his arm, squeezed it slightly. "You're your mother's son, Kurogane."

His vision misted suddenly; he couldn't breathe, and there was a very sharp, aching pain in his chest. Kurogane blinked hard, looked away.

"Take care of him, Fai," Tomoyo said. "Be gentle."

"I'm not a piece of glass," Kurogane muttered thickly. Fai flicked a curious glance at him. He didn't look at the wizard. "If I'm not around, you have to promise that you'll take care of yourself, Tomoyo."

She nodded. He knelt before her this time, not out of mistaken loyalty, but respect. Damnable seal or otherwise, she still shared his Tomoyo's soul, and she was just as important. Tomoyo laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't kneel for me, Kurogane."

If it had been the other Tomoyo, he would have dipped his head. As it was, Kurogane took her hand, pressed the backs of her fingers to his forehead, where the seal was, and held it for a moment. Then he got to his feet and turned to the wizard. "We should go."

Fai blinked and scrutinized him in concern. He shrugged it off, took larger steps toward the alley mouth. When both he and Fai had mounted their steeds, he looked again at Tomoyo, who was waving at them both.

"Be safe," she said.

Fai waved, Kurogane nodded, and they headed off back towards the camp. The return trip was far less exciting; the steeds meandered along the road, muscles relaxed now that they weren't being urged forward at breakneck speeds.

Kurogane was mulling over his gut feeling from earlier, about Tomoyo and what she'd said about his mother, when Fai began to talk. Through months of the idiot saying things he couldn't understand, he'd learned to tune that voice out when he wanted to think. How had this Tomoyo known about his mother? It wasn't fair that she knew things about the Lady of Suwa, when she wasn't even related to her. Had the Princess told her about his parents?

How was he his mother's son when he'd failed to save her from that sword attack?

There was that emptiness around his heart again, the one that sometimes filled with rage or with grief or fear, and he looked at the faint, straight scar on his left palm, thought about when he'd had his mother's still-warm body in his arm. If he were a better son, he'd have trained harder, become stronger and faster so he could have saved her before she died.

He missed her. He missed his father too, and the thought cut through his chest like a fresh wound. Hopping through worlds like this, he hadn't been able to return to Nihon to pay his respects at their grave. It had been more than a year since they'd begun this journey. How much time had passed in Nihon?

Kurogane swallowed, eyes burning.

Fai drifted closer on his steed, leaned forward to look at him. "Kuro-sama? Are you okay? You haven't been grumpy ever since we met Tomoyo-chan."

How—?

His throat worked; he turned to look at the wizard, still unable to speak.

The blond was frowning, reaching over to brush dust off his shoulder. "Something happened back there, didn't it? I've never seen you kneel in front of her aside from that first time—is something wrong? It's not like you understand me and that's okay, it's better that you don't. But I'm concerned, you know. She said something to you. I've never seen you sad like that."

The kids. They were here, weren't they. The kids had arrived in Yama and all Kurogane wanted to do was stop Fai in his tracks and make him repeat everything he'd said over the past six months.

He wanted to say something, he wanted to respond to Fai. But the only way the idiot would keep talking was if he didn't know Kurogane understood.

So Kurogane shrugged and turned away, yearning heaped over the emptiness in his ribs, with no way to assuage either one.

Fai continued to talk.

"I think it'd be best if we had some booze to cheer you up," he said. "I know we have a lot in the tent. You strike very good deals on the wine, Kuro-tan. The ladies all bat their eyelashes at you and you don't notice!" A laugh. "You'd make a very bad ladies' man. I think even Big Doggy is better with women than you are. I'm good with both. The cooks in the kitchen really liked me. I smiled a lot on Celes, and they loved the dancing cutlery. The chandeliers, too. Ashura-ou wasn't happy when he returned to the castle and everyone was dancing."

Kurogane blinked. Ashura. The person whose name had made Fai pale in the previous world—that had not been a voluntary reaction. Why did Fai talk about Ashura so freely now?

He saw the way Fai reached up into the collar of his armor, pushing his fingers along skin until he reached where his tattoo was. It had been months since he'd got the tattoo, and Fai still touched it even now, as if to reassure himself of its presence.

"Ashura?" Kurogane asked. Names wouldn't translate, so it was a safe question, just the one word.

Fai looked at him with some surprise. He sighed, looked away. "Ashura-ou. I've said so much about him, you know. I don't like to repeat myself. Especially the nasty things."

Kurogane had a moment to feel disappointment welling in his gut.

"But there's only so much I can say here, isn't there? It's been months, Kuro-pon, and I've told you everything there is to know about me. You'd hate me if you understood any of that."

He balled his fists, glanced down at his lap, cursing the kids for not showing up sooner. _I won't hate you,_ he wanted to tell the idiot.

"As far as I know, he's still asleep." Fai lowered his gaze, looked at the creature below him. "Chii hasn't said anything about him waking up, yet. I wonder if time passes faster here? We can't stay forever, you know. But somehow... I think the children will show up. Yasha-ou's made from the same magic as Sakura-chan's feather. I can feel it."

Oh. _Oh._ So that was how Fai knew to expect the kids—they would be here, somehow, if there was a feather to be found. _Yasha_ was a feather. The damn idiot—Fai never said a thing about the king in a way he could understand. Kurogane pressed his jaws together. They'd both known, then, that there hadn't been any real future for them here.

Yama was a dream—it would end soon, and their meeting with Tomoyo tonight only served to cement that fact.

Fai sighed gustily. "It must be nice being you, Kuro-wan. No king demanding you kill him, no ghosts from your past coming to haunt you. All you do is bark and be pretend to be fierce. You're not actually that fierce. We're both very good at pretending, aren't we? I see you though. You think I don't. It's a little scary, the way you look at me sometimes. It's as if you _know_ , and you _understand_. But I don't think you do. I'd rather no one know me."

It hurt, because he wanted to reach out and he couldn't. Fai would just keep running; now and in the future. Would it help if he killed Ashura? It wouldn't, would it, if Ashura was all of Fai's problems. He had been trying so hard to keep his distance from them, and being on the run couldn't be the only reason for it.

"You keep— You keep trying to get closer. Don't do that. I can only hurt you."

 _I don't care about that._ Kurogane watched the wizard from the corner of his eye, wanting to haul him in and hold him close. Fai would run. The closer he tried to get, the further Fai fled, and Kurogane was tired of the ache.

"I wish we had an oven here," Fai said suddenly. "It would be nice to bake again. After all the other worlds—this just seems so backward, doesn't it? Washing our clothes with well water? In Hanshin, all we had to do was put them in a machine and push a button."

Everything else Fai talked about was inconsequential—the food here, the smelly boots, the uncomfortable cots. He talked about snow and tall evergreen trees, and was about to say more when they pulled back into the camp, with its few oil lamps and numerous shadowy tents. The blond fell silent. Kurogane led them back to the animals' pen, where they secured the steeds without another word between them.

"You've been quiet tonight," Fai murmured when they were back in their tent. "Tomoyo-chan must have said something really bad."

He couldn't help but lift his shoulders, catching himself before he could reveal more. It was difficult to keep from talking. Was this what Fai had felt through his time in Yama?

They shed the outer layers of their armor, bundled their sleeping clothes and towels and headed for the bathing tent, where Fai shivered beneath the water that he upended over his head. It was late; they'd had to light the oil lamps themselves, and Kurogane dragged his stool behind Fai's, sandwiching the other between his thighs. Fai tensed a little when Kurogane took his bar of soap and lathered his hands, ran them down the flat of his back so the tattoo was somewhat obscured by thin foam.

"I... I think Nemi is fond of you," Fai breathed, sighing when Kurogane slid soapy palms down his arms.

"Nemi?"

"The phoenix." Fai shrugged, and Kurogane heard the hint of a smile in his voice. "I think it's a she. Her name means 'bravery'. It looks like you aren't completely silent tonight, Kuro-pyon."

Kurogane held his shrug back, continued to wash Fai, large hands covering thin limbs easily. It was intimate, this not-anything that was between them, and if Fai wasn't pulling away, that was fine with him. He tugged Fai against himself, dipped his fingers into the creases of the other's skin, felt the shiver of pleasure rippling through Fai's body. He heard the catch between steady breaths, released the wizard to scrub himself down, watching when Fai pulled reluctantly away to rinse the soap off.

When they returned to their tent, Fai straddled him easily on the cot, his movements sleek like moving water. Kurogane swallowed. Words sometimes fell from his mouth when they did this, like heavy pebbles, and he wasn't sure he could hold them back entirely. Fai's fingers were deft and clever, playing him like he played his music. He shouldn't. Not if he wanted Fai to reveal more secrets. Still. Fai's mouth was moist and soft on his neck, and he _wanted_.

He dragged his palms up along Fai's sides, caught damp hair between his fingers and tipped his head down for a kiss. They were going to have wine tonight, to celebrate the results of his training, but Fai's mouth was sweeter, the stroke of his tongue rough and heavy, and Kurogane wished for a fleeting moment that he were wearing the yukata.

(They'd have to take that along with them.)

He touched Fai all over, like he'd done in the bathing tent, until the other was squirming in his lap, hips rocking against him, needing to be touched in a very particular spot. Kurogane eased him down, tugged his clothes off, and Fai writhed beneath him, legs spread, erection straining between them.

"Please," he whispered.

It made him burn, that plea. Kurogane did not grant it, instead licking down Fai's chest so he mewled and arched and writhed, hips rocking up, the tip of his cock nudging against Kurogane's chest.

He licked a hot line down the valley of Fai's groin, lapped at his balls, squeezed them in his palm. Fai gasped, nails scrabbling against canvas when he finally began to suck on the base of flushed, hard flesh.

"Not, not, not there," Fai gasped, rutting up at him. Kurogane watched him carefully, dragged the flat of his tongue up to his tip, licked around it. "Fuck. _Yes._ "

He continued to tease, until Fai groaned and reached for his head, pushing him down at the same time he thrust up. Kurogane growled around the heft of his cock, hollowed his cheeks, and Fai keened, jerking hard, his limbs spasming. It didn't take long from there, pulling off and teasing and sucking again, until Fai's eyes were screwed shut and his cheeks were dark, and he slid heavy against Kurogane's tongue, skin slick with sweat.

Kurogane swallowed when he came, spurts of heat burning bitter down his throat. He pulled away, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, watched as Fai caught his breath while his own groin throbbed with steady, distracting pressure.

When Fai sat up and reached for him, he opened his mouth to refuse, tongue thick and heavy, still tasting like the other. He gulped, hovered with indecision and desire, watched as Fai cupped him through his shorts. A low groan slipped from his throat; he pressed into Fai's palm, watched with bated breath when Fai stroked him through thin cotton, long fingers slow and knowing, following him to his tip.

He grunted, trying not to say anything the wizard could understand. It grew increasingly difficult, however, when Fai peeled his shorts down and licked him all over, so the moisture on his tip was cooling when Fai reached his base. Fai caressed his balls and his thighs, toyed with his tip until there were a hundred curses behind his teeth. Kurogane held his mouth shut, groan turning into a whimper when Fai licked inconsequentially along his shaft, needing more pressure, needing to be inside.

He saw the moment when Fai understood he was facing a challenge. Blue eyes grew hooded; there was a smile toying on the corner of thin lips. He had a moment to acknowledge that this really wasn't a good idea, before Fai took him deep into his mouth, hot and wet, and Kurogane barely bit his curse down. He didn't last long after that, when Fai sucked on him like that, hard and demanding and he shuddered, swearing, spilling into slick heat.

When he recovered, he found the wizard in the other cot, facing away, shoulders taut.

Quietly, "You weren't talking on purpose, Kuro-tan. Were you?"

He sighed, infinitely disappointed in himself. He straightened his clothes, reached for a bottle of wine. "For good reason. You never planned on speaking honestly if I could understand."

"How much did you hear?" There was a reproachful edge to Fai's voice now, almost wary.

Kurogane uncorked the bottle and shrugged, remembered that the wizard couldn't see it. "Not enough. I would ask questions about it all, but you're just going to run again."

"How much did you hear?" Fai turned to frown at him. Kurogane gulped down wine and thrust the rest at the blond, figuring it would keep him in the tent longer. Fai's Adam's apple bobbed when he tipped the bottle into his mouth. "You weren't supposed to hear any of that."

"You talked loud enough that anyone in a ten-foot radius could hear," he shot back, clambering over their cots so he could sit by the wizard. Fai didn't protest when he took the wine back, gulped down another mouthful, washing the rest of that bitterness from his tongue.

"You tricked me."

 _Rich words, coming from a liar._ "You assumed I didn't understand."

"Because you didn't!" Fai took the bottle back, stared darkly at him. Kurogane was glad for the honesty of it. He wondered if this was who Fai was, beneath it all.

"You only have yourself to blame. If you'd spilled it all, you wouldn't be worrying about that now." When the other said nothing in response, he added, "I don't care about your past."

"So you say before you live to regret it." Fai turned away and muttered, "idiot."

Kurogane barked a laugh. "You're the idiot."

But Fai was still here, sitting next to him instead of leaving, and he wasn't wearing any masks. Something had changed in Yama, between them.

"Are you going to put a spell on me, then?" he asked. "Erase my memory? Or steal a feather from me?"

The wizard narrowed his eyes, gave him a lengthy, sidelong glance. "No. I can't spare the magic."

"Bullshit." Kurogane snorted. "You just don't want to use it."

Fai shrugged. "Who knows?"

"No one's life is in danger. You aren't going to put a spell on me unless you can justify the risk," he pointed out, knowing he was right. He hadn't expected to see the day when Fai's refusal to use his magic would work in his favor. "You aren't really running from me. I'm not a threat."

"Kuro-pon is so clever." Fai's voice lifted back into the old, unpleasant lilt of him avoiding things he didn't want to talk about. He tipped the rest of the wine down his throat and rose to his feet, heading towards where they'd shucked their boots. "What a smart dog."

He bit a growl down, followed the idiot across the tent floor. "Where are you going?"

"To look for the children, of course. Aren't you worried about them? They should be close. What if they're hurt?"

Kurogane stared askance at him. "You weren't even that concerned about looking for them when we were in Shara."

"Well, six months changes a lot of things, you know." Fai stamped his boots on.

He sighed and did the same. Yes, he wanted to make sure that they were doing well, at least, that the kid hadn't gone and injured himself, and that the princess was still in one piece. "The princess should learn to defend herself."

Fai's eyebrows crawled up, and amusement flashed across his dark eyes. "Is Kuro-run concerned about his daughter?"

"Idiot," he hissed, swung a punch at the wizard. Fai skipped neatly away. "Not like you weren't worried. You should be the one teaching her in case something like this happens again."

"You have a point." Fai pursed his lips, looked contemplatively at him. "I shouldn't let you teach her awful manly ways to fight."

He rolled his eyes. "You're so full of crap."

Fai plastered a huge grin across his face. Before he could head out through the tent flaps, Kurogane grabbed his arm, hauled him back so his lips were pressed to the other's ear. The smile faltered.

"This changes nothing," he breathed. Fai shivered against him.

"What's there to change?" The wizard slid an inscrutable look at him; slipped out of his grasp. "You're going to make us late, Kuro-Kuro. We don't want them getting lost again."

Kurogane sighed and followed the idiot out of the tent.

* * *

As it happened, the children were too far away for either of their senses to prove useful. Life energy thrummed through trees and wild creatures both—not much could be sensed aside from that. Fai scoured the forest; Kurogane grumbled the entire way, and they were finally forced to concede that the trio would be able to find their way into camp somehow. If all three of them were present.

They spent the whole of the next day distracted, hovering around Yasha in case Mokona led the kids to the feather. When the time came for them to be transported to the Moon Castle, Fai looked around from the higher vantage of his steed, scanning the surrounding forest. Next to him, Kurogane did the same.

It wasn't until half a minute before the teleporting grounds activated that he glimpsed them—two tiny figures on the far edge of the clearing making their way closer. His heart leaped to his throat; Fai hissed, "Kuro-lief!"

The ninja turned to follow his gaze, dark eyes narrowing. "Damn it!"

Fai urged his steed around the edge of the gathered troops, cursed when bright white light glowed beneath them. The children had crossed the boundaries of the transportation grounds—both in grubby clothes, and Syaoran with impossibly long hair.

When they materialized at the Moon Castle, Fai steered his mount through the charging soldiers, with Kurogane following close behind. It took them a long time to weave their way through the men. Yasha commanded them to return to his side midway; they exchanged a glance, and Kurogane nodded towards where they'd last seen the children. _Find them. I'll guard Yasha._

It appeared that the children had made their escape sometime during the charging of the troops. Fai swept his gaze over the emptied landing area, doubled back to comb the chaos of the battlefield. More than a handful of times, he'd had to dodge arrows that came too close, and across the field, Kurogane was fighting, defending the feather.

The battle dragged on for hours—how could two children be so difficult to locate? When he made it back to Kurogane's side by the end of it, his stomach twisted in worried knots, the other shook his head tightly, forehead creased.

Fai would have dearly liked to remain on the battlefield to resume his search, but Yasha dispelled that notion.

"There are children," he told the magical construct. "I will stay here to locate them."

Yasha shook his head. "King Ashura has them. They will be fine."

All he could do was stare between Yasha and Kurogane's dark glower, wondering how the kids could have made their way over to the enemy's side, how Yasha had known of their whereabouts but not Kurogane, and how he could get to them now. The transportation grounds glowed beneath their feet.

"We have to find them," he hissed at Kurogane the moment they landed, wind rustling the trees around them. The ninja's response was a jumble of consonants. Fai pressed his lips together, cursing the stupid luck he had. First, Kurogane had to listen to him talk about things he shouldn't have mentioned. Then, when he'd got the language barrier he wanted, the children had slipped from between their fingers.

They sat through Yasha's debriefing impatiently, if only so Kurogane could listen out for new strategies that could hinder their search. They returned to their tent after, Kurogane pacing, Fai worrying at his lip.

"We'll follow Ashura's troops down," he decided. He sketched the Moon Castle and two separate cities, gestured that they made their way towards Shura's teleportation grounds. "If they're holding the children hostage, we'll find them then."

Kurogane gave his drawings a considering look, nodded tightly. Fai could tell that the other was worried (and it was cute, too, wasn't it?) though he chose not to comment. He didn't know what this Ashura was like as a ruler, could only hope that the children would be fine until they got there.

The warrior stopped in his pacing suddenly, came to sit heavily down in his cot. Fai frowned. Kurogane rolled his eyes, shoved a bottle of wine at him.

"Problems can't be solved by drinking, Kuro-sir," he said chidingly, but accepted the liquor all the same. If they were leaving this place soon, it didn't make sense to leave all this booze behind.

Kurogane had the same idea, apparently, because he was pulling a larger, different bottle toward himself. He drew a couple of long swallows, reached over, and cuffed Fai lightly on the chin.

It was familiar, intimate in an entirely different way, and Fai held his breath, watched when the warrior resumed drinking.

"We shouldn't even be doing this," he said, but he was uncorking the bottle and sipping heartily from it anyway, feeling it burn, burn, burn down his gut. Kurogane smirked at him, swapped their bottles for a taste of his wine.

This was ending soon, whatever it was, and he was happy about it. Really.

* * *

(If they were drunk, whatever they did didn't count, right?)

* * *

Fai trudged out of the tent some hours later, tired and aching from when he'd goaded Kurogane to go faster and harder (they'd had oil left over, too, and he'd convinced himself that whatever they did was just in case he ended up alone and hungry in the next world). The trees rustled around him, tall and shadowy with little nooks between their roots he could hide in, if he wanted.

"Your master's an idiot, Nemi," he muttered. "None of that happened with Kuro-sir, either."

It was laughing at him, he was sure.

"I don't care what he looks like from your perspective." Because this was an easier topic than _How much exactly did he hear?_ "He's a great, stupid lump."

 _He's not stupid,_ the tattoo seemed to be saying. _He knew exactly how to milk you for information._

"Either he is, or he didn't hear most of what I said." Fai scowled. He knew, for a fact, that he did not understand a word when they left Tomoyo's. So, they'd fallen within Mokona's translation range sometime on the way back to camp. Fai knew he hadn't talked about the dead, or anything about Ashura's curse in that time. "Stop reminding me of him."

_He has a nice sword, I've seen it._

Fai sighed and dragged his hand over his face. He had to be growing desperate if he was talking on behalf of his tattoo, too. Chii had understood him, and he missed having something around that wouldn't ask all the questions he was trying to avoid. Kurogane saw and asked enough. He didn't make Fai feel anything. He used Fai, Fai used him, and that was the end of it.

(Kurogane felt very, very good.)

He had grown soft in Yama. It had been comfortable living with Kurogane and not having to invent outright lies, or make excuses, and it had been fun when all he had to do was sketch silly comics and drink and play his fiddle. Then he'd paid for it when Kurogane suddenly understood the words he wasn't supposed to hear, and Fai had been too unnerved, felt too betrayed and stupid to pull on his lying act at once.

As it was, Kurogane had not pressed his advantage with whatever information he'd gained. He'd been right about the memory spell, too. The magic Fai had woven into his music didn't count—one frivolous spell was already one time too many.

Fai drew to a stop behind a large tree, sunk his back heavily against its trunk. He'd underestimated the warrior—his intellect, his attractiveness, his tenacity. And he should distance himself in every way possible because of this, but he couldn't. Kurogane was still somewhere safe (perhaps even more so, now), and he helped Fai forget.

Kurogane had all the tools he needed to kill Fai, and being the idiot he was, he failed to utilize them.

* * *

There was no breeze tonight. The air was quiet, taut with anticipation, and the soldiers were motionless behind them, listening to Yasha's calm commands before they were transported to the Moon Castle. Even the dragon-lizard steeds felt the energy, too—they stamped their armored hooves on the ground, shifting beneath their riders, and Fai patted his lightly on the neck. He shoved the fingers of his other hand past his armor again, touched the skin that marked the edges of his tattoo.

 _Ashura-tii would smile at this,_ he thought. His beloved king valued loyalty, even if Fai was not very good at keeping his word. If only there was another way—

The ground glowed white beneath them, and Fai knew to anticipate the tug that threw them across the wide, gaping distance to the Moon Castle. When they landed, he ignored the surge of nausea through his stomach, turned to scan the field.

"Don't look like there's too many of them tonight."

"You're seeing things. Don't die, right?"

Fai tensed, glanced behind him, where the soldiers were speaking quietly amongst themselves. Up ahead, Ashura's army had manifested in its landing zone, and Yasha was raising his sword—the signal to charge. Fai jerked his head towards Kurogane, who was looking back at him with a frown. Around them, the men roared, stormed forward.

"I understand," he hissed, urging his steed to move.

"They don't have accents now," Kurogane answered. He swept an astute gaze across the enemy's front lines. "Look."

Fai turned to follow his line of sight. There, far ahead, Ashura had three other steeds accompanying him instead of two. He gasped, squinting as he focused on the third rider. "Syaoran-sha!"

"Yeah. I don't see the princess."

They exchanged a glance, leaned forward at the same moment to increase their speeds. The mounts far outstripped any soldier sprinting on the ground. They were alone within moments, two targets in the middle of a wide, barren battlefield.

When he next looked at Kurogane, the warrior's eyes were calculating. "Kuro-pai, what are you—"

"I want to know if he's forgotten all his training," the other said decisively. His lips spread in a sharp, predatory grin. "Pretend you don't know him, and follow my lead."

In that moment, he understood that the plans they'd concocted the previous night were pushed to the back burner, to be drawn on only if the circumstances did not play out to their advantage. Fai nodded, couldn't help a smile. "You're so strict with your student."

The ninja scoffed. "It's been six months. If you've spent any effort on students, you'd want to know if they've retained at least some of what you taught them."

Fai could empathize with that. He'd had students before, too, a long time ago on Celes. Ashura had taught him and tested him, and his tests had not been easy. Fai had followed in his methods of teaching, had been willing to endanger his students to gauge how well they'd learned their lessons. (Ashura's blows had hurt, and Fai learned quickly that he'd much rather avoid them completely. It had been very effective training.)

Kurogane did not go easy on the boy.

Fai distracted Ashura and his men, kept them busy while Kurogane drew Syaoran out. It had not been simple—Ashura's attention kept straying back to Syaoran, and Fai had had to increase the intensity of his attacks, watching from the corner of his eye while Kurogane loosed some of his more powerful blows.

(He had known about Kurogane's frustration with his strength, too. The seal had flared with magic when Kurogane killed, and Fai had not missed the magic working, robbing the warrior of his effectiveness.)

There were times when Fai thought Syaoran would fall, when he could spare the time to glance that way. Syaoran dodged and ducked and rolled, and he looked healthy, well-fed, with hardly any injuries. He assumed that Sakura was faring just as well, if she had been able to move through the battlefield as quickly as he had.

Yasha came to join in the fray midway, distracting Ashura. It gave Fai a chance to slip away. He was galloping up behind Kurogane when the ninja turned and glanced at him from the corner of his eye, flicking his gaze briefly at Syaoran. _Have a go._

Fai wasn't sure what exactly Kurogane had meant by that, but he raised his bow and fired at the boy in quick succession, just so his arrows caught on the edge of Syaoran's clothes and pinned him to solid rock. Kurogane leaped off his steed and bore down on him, and all Fai could do was hold his breath, nearly forgetting to dodge the arrows aimed for himself when Kurogane aimed an attack right at the boy.

_Did he—_

Syaoran tore free of the arrows and finally began to fight back. Between worrying for him and avoiding lethal blows, Fai caught the satisfied smirk on Kurogane's mouth, felt his stomach flip a little.

Kurogane knew what he was doing, was pushing the boy to his limits to assess his skill. He had faith in Syaoran. He swung Souhi at the boy as he did chasing Fai down, and warmth flickered through Fai's chest at that realization. He barely had time to turn and incapacitate one of Ashura's generals in the shoulder because he was concerned and captivated and he _wanted_.

It was to their surprise when Ashura charged up and ended the fight. In all their months on the battlefield, the king of Shura had not cared about others enough to save them from imminent demise; yet here he was, defending Syaoran from Kurogane.

Things quickly spiraled out of their control from there, when Yasha rode up and confronted Ashura, and the two kings rode away, swords clashing.

"The dream has to end," Ashura said. Amidst all that fighting, Fai watched as the enemy king sunk a sword into Yasha, in the instant Yasha dealt the same to Ashura.

The Moon Castle shattered beneath their feet.

Syaoran did not seem to search out Sakura when he fell out of the sky. Fai gathered that the princess had not been on the battlefield at all. Kurogane was headed towards Syaoran; the pair would be fine. He turned his steed sharply away then, toward where Yasha's men were plummeting back to the ground, spotting the pair he was looking for.

Yukito was the one he reached first, grabbing the man by a foot as he fell. It was a struggle to haul him onto the creature's back as it leaped from rock to falling rock, however, and by the time Fai caught Touya by the arm, they were speeding far too quickly towards the ground, with no rocks nearby for the steed to leap from. The animal whinnied fearfully, kicked its hooves. There would be certain gory death if he did nothing.

He swore, forced magic through his fingers, scrawling a levitation spell and wrapping it around the steed. To be safe, he directed an identical spell at Kurogane's mount, watched as the ninja turned to look at him shrewdly.

His steed slowed in its fall, landed heavily on hard ground, and its three passengers rammed hard into its back. Fai grit his teeth at the pain blooming through his tailbone and thighs—he hadn't expected to need cushioning against an armored creature, nor had he expected to use his magic again, this time without any way of erasing his trail. There weren't any paper spells on hand.

"So you're actually a witch," Touya grunted, squinting up at him from across the horse's withers. "After that other guy swore left and right that you weren't."

Fai grimaced. "I just wanted to thank the both of you. For all that you've done for me."

"You can speak our language fluently, too," Yukito said, huffing a breath of laughter. "Are there more surprises we don't know about?"

"Plenty more." Fai sighed, swung his leg carefully over the animal's back. He flattened his palms against thick, leathery hide and let himself down to the ground, wincing when the impact sent pain shooting up through his ankles. "Ow!"

He stumbled back into something warm and solid, wasn't surprised when he looked up into—

"You have red eyes," he said, staring up at Kurogane. They were so very red, blazing hot, and he hadn't thought he'd missed seeing them like that.

"And you have blue eyes. Tch." Kurogane frowned at him. "Turns out that our eyes don't turn black if we land in Shura."

"How—" Fai blinked, turned around to look for Syaoran. What he saw instead were both the children, Syaoran covered in dirt, and Sakura in elegant robes, clean and healthy. "Syaoran-sha! Sakura-mis!"

He didn't pay any mind to the relief and gratitude welling in his chest when he rushed towards them, squeezing them against himself in a giant hug.

"Fai-ril!" they chorused, large eyes surprised and warm.

"We've missed you," Sakura said. He heard her smile, clutched her tighter to himself. He didn't think he could bear to let her go. She was fine, she was well, and she was happy to see him.

"Kurogane-ril told me that he wanted to test my skills," Syaoran added sheepishly. "I knew I recognized Souhi."

"Shh," he told them. "Kuro-mon is just a very grumpy big dog. He cares about you both, you know, he was so worried—"

"Oi!" Large fingers slid through his hair and tugged painfully. Fai was dragged up and away from the children, and he pulled on his brightest grin when Kurogane turned him around to meet those red eyes again. It felt as if he could fall into them and drown. "Speak for yourself, you nitwit. I wasn't worried at all."

"Yes, he was!" Fai glanced back at the children, who were watching them uncertainly. Mokona had poked her head out of Syaoran's clothes, and she was waving eagerly, squealing her delight. "Kuro-sir is the best daddy you can ever have—"

Kurogane shook him into silence, slung one arm around his neck to cover his mouth, while his other hand ground painfully into the top of his head. "Fucking shut up, you stupid wizard!"

He wailed into the warrior's hand, bit hard into the flesh of his palm. Kurogane swore and released him with a glower. "Kuro-pai is a big bully."

Syaoran was holding out a feather, and as they watched, it sunk into Sakura's chest with a tinkle of magic that Fai heard and felt in his bones. The boy was quick to catch his princess; Mokona was sprouting wings and floating into the air in the next heartbeat, and Fai panicked. He didn't want to lose track of the kids. Not Kurogane, either.

Kurogane yelped when Fai hooked an arm around his neck, dragging him down to where Syaoran was crouching with Sakura on the ground. "I don't want us to get separated again," he said. He hung on tight even when Syaoran left his parting words with the soldiers who had somehow made it back down alive.

Mokona's magic swept around them. Fai relaxed, glad to be on the move now that he'd left a trace of his own magic here. Kurogane was looking at him from the corner of his eye, one warm hand coming up to grasp him around the side, and Fai was too keen on traveling to protest.

He hoped the next world would be a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so this brings us to the end of the Yama arc. ;) It was one hell of a ride, and I managed to explain some things - like how Fai discovered Kurogane's tendency to hide his wounds, why he let Kurogane attack Syaoran, and so on. I did not, however, manage to include that Fai and Kurogane are bringing things along with them from this world - the maganyan, fiddle, and yukata. Fai had the fiddle strapped to his back, in case you were wondering. ;)
> 
> Coming next week: **the sands of Harasa** , in which these guys land in a desert world after Shara. :) There's a photoset and previews for it on my kurofai tumblr if you're interested. ;)
> 
> Thoughts? Comments? Anything I can improve on? What did you like most about this arc? Happy New Year, you guys! Wishing you and yours a year full of good tidings and cheer!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic actually took me multiple attempts to get started (which is a first for me), because there are so many things I want to address here. The first chapter gives you a preview to most of it, and I am actually still writing (chapter 6 now!) without much idea of when it's going to end, lol. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.
> 
> As usual, thoughts and comments are very welcome! :)


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